The Resolution
by Blood Red Tulips
Summary: After a night she wishes she could banish from her memory, Rowan Hanely finds herself to be a new student at Hogwarts. The Marauders want to figure out this quirky, enchanting and dark girl, but most of all, the secrecy behind her arrival and her past.
1. Chapter 1

**The Resolution**  
**by Blood Red Tulips**

**- Chapter One -**

**- Rowan Hanely -**

* * *

"Move it! C'mon' now! Catch me!" My father yelled into the night.

I watched his dark wavy hair bounce with his movements. He was as quick and lithe as ever. His voice was spirited - excited even. I could see the bright sparks of light that emitted from his wand in my peripheral vision.

Spooky light pouring through the trees; leaves aglow with red…blue…

I ran with a purpose. Trees whipped by and their branches clawed my skin, easily – and soon my arms were stinging with what felt to be a thousand tiny paper cuts from all those needle sharp conifers, and reaching twig-like arms of the tree limbs. My feet were inconceivable blurs below me. My palm was becoming sweaty.

I rolled my eyes. _No wonder…_

It was gripping my brother's hand tightly. His hand was slick with perspiration.

I dragged him along. I could hear his whimpering. In my frustration, I stopped abruptly.

His soft pants stopped as he slammed into me. My wand – at the ready – nearly poking him in the face.

"Damn it Flynn! Keep up! Do you want your arse blasted off?"

He flinched at my words. His blue eyes – our family's trademark – were glistening with tears. His dark hair was matted with sweat and his lip was quivering slightly. His soft chubby cheeks were flushed. His fighting suit was torn.

Any other time I might have taken him into my arms and consoled him. Now? Now was not the time for that.

"Are you a Hanely or not?" I hissed.

He nodded fervently. His hand squeezed mine. "I am."

I allowed myself to give him a soft smile and cupped his cheek. "Of course you are," I murmured. He smiled back and winced when a cut on his cheek stretched with the smile.

I gently wiped the blood off his face with my sleeve. I turned – the thick braid of my hair whipping around with me – and gripped his sweaty hand even harder.

I could see my mother and Willow now. They, like us, were running through the thick brushy section of the forest. If they had caught up with us…it was bad. They turned every few feet to shoot curses into the brush behind them. The blur of light brown curls that was my sister ran towards us.

"_Stupefy_!" A jet of light flew from her wand into the trees. The dark figures in the distance were shown, flying through the trees with her direct hit in the curse's illuminating light.

One of them yelped.

Willow – her beautiful face riddled with deep gashes – grinned. "That'll teach the stupid git."

My mother, at her side rounded on her, her eyes dark with worry and anger. "Insult them once we've gotten the upper hand."

Willow rolled her eyes, prompting my mother to shake her head. Her light brown ponytail identical to that of my sister's danced with her vigorous movement.

"Mum!" Flynn called.

They stopped in front of us; twin looks of horror painting their faces. With an abrupt movement, my mum lurched forward then roughly pulled my brother and I behind an immense oak.

Willow covered for us. She watched the trees with her tiny nose scrunched in concentration and her brow furrowed with worry. Her suit was clinging to her tense body. My big sister – always a fighter at the ready.

Flynn was stuck to me like glue. His tiny body shoved against the tree and his arms encircling my waist tightly.

I turned to my mother and her blue eyes were more desperate than I had ever seen them. Her dirtied face pinched with worry. Stray curls forming a halo around her sweaty forehead.

"You were supposed to be out of here by now!" she whispered desperately.

A feeling of fear crept into me; it's icy hands taking hold of my wildly beating heart.

"I know, I know," I muttered, shaking, as I felt Flynn shudder with guilt against me. Poor bloke, he knew he slowed me down.

Willow moved suddenly and stared down a certain part of the trees with livid concentration. My mother glanced at her quickly before turning her solid gaze on to me.

"Mum…" I whispered hoarsely, "apparate with Flynn. I'll stay with Willow. You can come back if anything – "

"No!" she snarled.

I jumped and Flynn squeezed me harder.

"If I apparate it will give us away." Her voice had never been so tired. She pressed her forehead to mine and cupped Flynn's head gently with her free hand. I felt her feverish temperature and willed myself not to beg her to get us out. "Besides we – "

"Always stick together," I breathed.

She nodded, and a sad smile graced her features.

Flynn looked up at her as she pulled away from me. His tiny voice was almost imperceptible. "Then…where's…Dad?" he asked slowly.

She paled. "Y-you haven't seen him?" Her mouth was set in a straight line now, dirt-smeared cheeks looking more sunken than ever.

Willow stiffened several feet away, and her head turned unintentionally towards us. She didn't look our way though, her lively, wide eyes watched the forest restlessly.

I swallowed. "We haven't seen him since a while back."

My words hung stale in the air.

Mum smoothed Flynn's hair thoughtfully. His dark hair was shiny with the blood from her hand. She was looking through me. The soft light from the moon showing the stricken look on her face.

I heard a choked sound from Willow. "Awful quiet isn't it?" my sister croaked.

My mother nodded – the blank look still hadn't left her. "Too quiet," she whispered wearily.

Willow began to scan the dark forest once more. "Bloody hell, where are they?" she hissed.

My mother quit stroking Flynn's dampened hair and gently padded over to where my sister stood, leaving Flynn and I peeking around the great oak tree. Mum's wand was pointed at the trees, switching direction every so often.

I had a quick intake of breath as I saw how alike they were: fierce beauties, curly hair floating in the gentle wind, and tiny bodies tense and coiled for fighting.

"Get your wand out," I told Flynn.

He knew my tone meant business; he quickly let go of me, pulling out his wand from a small case attached to his belt. He was no longer quivering as he took a few gentle steps away from me and towards our family.  
_  
A Hanely indeed_, I thought proudly.

I pulled my wand from its holder as well, relishing in the familiarity of its cool touch. I held it at the ready, the leaves and bracken crunching beneath my feet as I joined my siblings and mother.

My mother turned to me – a stern, brave look taking control of the once blank face.

Flynn nudged his way between us, his wand poking out from our array of limbs.

Willow shot him an encouraging nod. He grinned.

An impervious silence engulfed us. The sounds of our regular breathing assaults to the pregnant pause the auditory world had given us.

A tree creaked.

A branch snapped.

We all turned, in every which direction.

"_Expelliarmus_!" My sister called out.

A scream came from the darkness, followed by a gentle thud.

A group of hooded figures emerged from the forest around us. Flynn tensed and strayed closer to Mum and me.

"Gotcha now," one giggled.

My mother sneered. "_Levicorpus_!" The man was abruptly raised from the ground.

"_Crucio_!" another shouted, his deep voice ringing out.

My mother screamed, suddenly writhing in agony. The man she had cursed dropped to the ground. She fell to her knees. The whites of her eyes showing as they rolled in the back of her head. She bit her lip to keep from screaming and she bit it so hard blood had begun to trickle down her chin.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Flynn pleaded, almost dancing on his feet by our mother – lost as to what he should do.

Willow opened her mouth and leaned forward to curse the one who was torturing our mother. He turned to her – his wand never wavering from our mother.

"Send one spell my way and I'll increase this blood-traitor's pain ten-fold." He meant it too.

Willow shut her mouth and her expression became oppressed and hateful.

Moans escaped my mother. Flynn touched her writhing body, with his tentative, dirtied little fingers.

"Mum…?" he whimpered.

I hissed in frustration and they laughed. The lot of them laughed. I could feel myself shaking with the inability to do something.

"Please. Stop." I snarled.

The wizard turned to me, his long flowing black cloak moving with him. "Since you asked so nicely."

He pulled his wand away from my mother, disconnecting the curse he had set upon her. She collapsed to the ground and rested her shaking body against my little brother. Nail marks had been dug into her palms, to create shallow crescents. Her eyes raised up mine… anguish, pure anguish in their blue depths. My brother hugged her close, pressing our mother into him, as she had held him whenever he was hurt. She held him back weakly, almost as if she couldn't muster the strength to squeeze him back like she wanted to.

Willow gently pulled her to her feet, in some attempt to give back her dignity, allowing Flynn to grip my mother's waist with an unseen ferocity. She breathed in ragged breaths and slowly raised her want to point at her torturer, with a drooping hand.

Willow pointed it to them too and I raised mine quickly as well, my fingers almost cramping because of how hard I held it.

My mother's pale lips attempted to mouth words. The wizards laughed again, their wands shaking with their chuckles.

My eyes darted to those pacing around us. I turned with them, following their movements. My breath caught as I saw that they were all around us. Not just on one side, but on all. There was nowhere to run. Dozens of them encircled us all around the oak tree. It was like some sick game of Ring Around the Rosie.

"We're sure to all fall down," I whispered. Some of the cloaked wizards cocked their heads quizzically at me, too ignorant, too ingrained in wizarding culture to possibly know what I meant. My sister even turned quickly with a confused expression on her face. It quickly changed to horror as she saw what I had suddenly discovered. A gasp came from her lips.

Her lip quivered as she looked into my eyes. She looked as though she were about to cry. I hadn't seen my sister cry since I had told her I hated her in a moment of childish spite years ago. I had never hated her, not really. She was my best friend in all honesty, despite her being my older sister. My mind raced, yet it was all so sluggish, because my body was shaking, and my wand was becoming slick in the hand that was already coated with sweat from tugging on Flynn's little hand - I wanted to cry out for her, for Flynn too. I wanted to cry with her - because when she cried, I cried. When we cried, Flynn cried. I felt everything she did, because we were only a year apart, but more close than I could possibly explain to anyone. And Flynn? He was the little boy we both shared the same adoration and affection for. He followed us like a puppy, but we couldn't care less.

Now, she turned away brusquely, pointing her wand back at the leader. I followed suit – turning back slowly. Facing our enemy, if only a fraction of them all, once more.

He regarded us with a superior grin.

"Where," I heard my mother rasp out, "is my husband?"

The man laughed. I moved forward with the sudden anger that pushed through every fibre of my being. Several unidentified wands came up to point at me. I stayed where I was, several steps in front of my family and glanced back rapidly when I heard Flynn whimper my name.

The leader stopped laughing. "You want to know where Daddy is, hmm?" He turned to a man that stood to his right. "Bring them Daddy. Show them what a great wizard Daddy is."

The man smiled graciously at his leader then stepped into the darkness of the trees, his cloak flying out behind him.

I tensed in fear.

A moan of pain came from the depths of the elders, the firs, the birch and the oaks all around us. I turned to Willow and rushed to her as I saw her pained face. Dozens of wands followed me. My mother began to shake violently and Flynn only held on to her harder yet his shocked eyes were focused on the forest before us – where the ghastly cries of pain were coming from.

Willow stared at my face – each of us sporting a baffled expression of fear and horror.

I took her hand into mine, squeezing as our fingers intertwined. We turned to stare at the gap in the circle of Dark Wizards where one of them was slowly walking towards us. His wand that poked out of the great black sleeve of his cloak was pointed upwards, levitating what I presumed to be my father.

Even presumptions couldn't prepare me for the sight of the shivering body of my father. His face was caked with blood from the jagged cuts profusely bleeding. An impossible amount of crimson pouring fourth. His limbs at awkward angles. The pure ivory of bone sticking out grotesquely from his skin.

A wounded sounding whimper escaped me, before I clamped my hand over my mouth... as if it could prevent me from being sick, or screaming.

His body shuddered and his mouth opened – teeth missing, lips torn and swollen. My mother cried out in anguish. She cried out with more anguish now than before when she had been under the Cruciatus curse.

"Richard!" His name echoed in my mind

My father's bleary blue eyes opened. He tried to smile, for my mother, for his beautiful wife. "Alexis."

Willow began to cry quietly, and I felt her tremors in the hand I held. I gently rubbed her scraped knuckles with my thumb.

Flynn stared blankly, as if the sight of it had been too much for his wide, naïve eyes… As if he wished to see no more. I willed myself not to scream. Not to break down. My father moved steadily towards us, held aloft in the air by magic itself, for we knew he was too beaten to carry himself on his own.

His spine cracked.

"No," I whispered. I could feel my sister tensing as well. He was changing… He was about to reveal our secret, the reason why we managed to hide for so long… In his pain, he probably believed that not being human would let him cope more, a higher pain threshold for a hardier creature…

He was changing form and as the Dark Wizard laid him down in front of us, a mangled wolf lay in front of my family.

A theatrical sigh came from the leader. I stared at him, bereft of words.

"You know," he drawled, "when we went to search for the lot of you…We were looking for a family of wizards. We were looking for a group of Dark Wizard Hunters." He stopped, visibly trying to control his anger. "NOT," he bellowed, "A PACK OF BLOODY WOLVES."

Willow froze, with the magnitude of our secret being out in the open. Me? I lifted my chin, hoping no tears would betray themselves and wishing him away more and more with each and every second.

He licked his lips. "But once we figured it out, all we had to do was trap you like the filthy Animagi you are -"

"Good job, you want a prize?" I heard myself say in a soft, hateful tone.

My mother who had kneeled down with Flynn to caress my father's head had looked up at me, a small smile on her face.

Willow snickered approvingly from beside me.

The leader sneered, gesturing his wand in my direction. "You see. This is going to be my prize you cheeky little bitch. Watching you all die. Watching the family who has killed and imprisoned so many of us, die. Watching you die, as a family. _That_ is a very rewarding prize." He said through his teeth.

I heard a gurgling laugh from beneath me. I glanced down to see my father's human form, and not his wolf Animagus, but he was broken as he pressed his palms to the ground, and raised himself to stare at the man with one good eye. "Poor taste in prizes for a pureblood. Don't you have a lot of gold?" Blood spurted from his mouth with each word.

Flynn squirmed, pressing into my mother, and looking at my father, with a distinct frown of confusion and horror. _Why is there so much blood?..._ his eyes seemed to say.

My mother smiled proudly. She tore the cloth piece of her suit, the one that hugged her sleeves, and wiped his mouth. It was saturated within moments.

The leader leaned forward. "Funny, Hanely. Even on your deathbed you and your daughter are making jokes at your killer's expense."

My father opened his mouth to retort but began to cough more blood. I winced at the sound.

The leader snorted. "See? Humour can only get you so far. Now, let's get on with it shall we?"

A whoop of joy ripped around the circle of Dark Wizards. They screamed our names. They pointed their wands. They let out the worst string of profanity.

They wanted our blood – as if enough of it wasn't pouring from my father's faltering body. As if enough wasn't seeping from my family's jagged cuts. I could feel its slipperiness from my wounds. They wanted more of it. They wanted our godforsaken robes to be soaked in it. But this is the life we lived. My family and I.

I closed my eyes.

When you decide to fight, a feeling of peace comes over you. It's almost like death, the way it gently takes over your senses. I did not feel the constant burning pain of my wounds. I did not smell the blood or the trees all around me. I did not hear the angry shouting of these people out to kill my family. I did not even see them closing in.  
_  
Maybe this resolution feels like death because I am so close to it…  
_  
I opened my eyes, catching my sister doing the same.

She squeezed my hand firmly. I felt as though I would hold her hand again soon enough. Her glorious blue eyes blazing with cold hatred for those around us.

She nodded.

With a roar I separated from her, curses flying from my wand… and they fell…

But most of them rose again, sending their own curses my way… almost as crazed as me, in their fighting.

The forest was no longer dark, but alive with the light of the battle. The faces of my enemies glowing in the eerie magical light, and I tried to commit each and every one to memory, so I could remember them, and remember to finish them too.

I felt my legs being sliced to shreds. I laughed at the pain. Twirling around throwing out spells, curses, jinxes, hexes and anything I could push out of me.

I heard a yelp as my father suddenly went still. A fiery wave of hatred nestled in my rapidly beating heart.

"Killing a man when he can't fight?" my sister screeched from somewhere to my left, a shot of green light flashed into an oncoming group of cloaked men. "Fight _me_ you bloody cowards!"

I felt a blow hit me. My lungs being winded as I flew through the air. I snarled in pain as my body skidded across the roots of the great oak. I didn't dare let go of my wand. My lip ripped.

Chest heaving – I jumped up. Pointing my wand at the culprits. I couldn't pull in proper breaths. I heard the clumsy, wet attempts at breathing more than I felt them.

The men came towards me. I pulled up my chin in defiance. _Bastards._

They charged, before being blindsided by a vicious curse. They flew, screaming into the trees. I whirled around wildly to see who had come to my rescue. Only to see my mother gripping Flynn's unmoving body several feet away, angry tears and blood marring her blinding beauty.

"Kill my son, why don't you?" she hissed in agony.

I felt a spasm of disbelief. _My brother..._

"Flynn?" I called. My mother ignored me, cooing softly to my brother. She seemed oblivious to the fact that his body was oddly still. She rocked him gently in her arms, her shirt slowly becoming tainted with his blood. I had never seen him that still. Not since he was just a newborn. He was grossly immobile.

I began to run towards them, a lump of grief and terror forming in my throat. I felt a shot of pain take control of me as someone gripped my braid, yanking me back to where I once stood, and my feet scrabbled against the forest floor. I whipped around wildly, letting my small fist shoot into the recesses of his hood to come into contact with his face. I felt a satisfying crunch.

I smiled, even as he picked me up by the throat. I dangled in front of him.

I could see blood pouring profusely from his bulbous nose.

His twisted mouth began to move, and I caught sight of his rotting, broken teeth, and the waft of decay came from his lips. "So you want to fight with your fists, eh cutie? My kind of girl you are."

I struggled, desperately trying to breathe. I wriggled, gathering my strength, to spit directly into his disgusting face.

He roared, throwing me on the ground. I smirked with triumph as he wiped his face with his tattered sleeve. I tried in vain to crawl away.

"Oh no you don't you Hanely bitch!" He yelled.

A swift kick came to meet the tender underside of my stomach.

I retched.

He kicked again. I screamed, and a spatter of blood came from my mouth as the sound filled the air. I had heard several soft crunches, when his foot had met my ribs.

I tried to suck in a frantic breath. I felt him pick me up by my hair again. The pulling pain of the roots of my hair was nothing now. He threw me. I only noticed when the ground came up to greet me with a thump- a painful thump.

My body was twitching. I could barely move, and I hissed as I turned over, gripping my aching side with unsteady hands, only to be met with great blue eyes, so alike my own. My sister staring back at me. She was hiccupping. Short, quivering breaths. Her full lips wet with blood. It looked like the shade of lipstick she wanted to buy, and she had needled my mother for many a time. Her beautiful face was sliced to bits. Tears were slowly trickling down her face, making trails through the mask of blood.

Her light hair was almost as dark as mine, being soaked with blood and mud. Bright green leaves were caught in her feisty curls.

"Rowan…"she breathed.

I touched her face. We were almost twins; she was only a year older than me.

"Willow," I whispered, "I'm going to send my Patronus to the Ministry. It will save us. I'll tell them where we are. They'll apparate here, okay? We're going to be alright… I'll take care of you."

She nodded, her vacant eyes still locked on mine. I reached over to grip her hand. I noticed some of her nails had been ripped off as she squeezed my fingers.

I shuddered, causing a wave of pain to course through me. I gently raised my wand to the sky.  
_  
The stars are beautiful tonight_, I thought.

An animalistic screech filled the air. I recognized it as my mother's.

I closed my eyes, thinking of our family home. Of Flynn. Of Dad. Of Mum and Willow. Their smiles. Us Hanely's, together.

"_Expecto Patronum!_," I whispered fiercely, ignoring the sudden gooey, coppery taste of blood in my mouth that seemed to accompany my words.

A silvery timber wolf ran quickly and swiftly from my wand into the night sky.

* * *

**A\N: Hereby my disclaimer for all contents within this story, here on and out. I do not seek profit by using J.K Rowling's characters, or her universe - just a bit of fun. I own nothing, except the original character(s) present within the story. **

**Oh, and of course, please feel free to leave any comments, questions, or thoughts in the form of a review or a private message!**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Resolution**  
**- Chapter Two -**

* * *

The Aurors headquarters within the Ministry of Magic was pleasantly populated that night.

A group of off-duty Aurors had gathered at the long conference table to file paperwork (which undoubtedly, had to be their least-favourite part of the job). Their coffee mugs were strewn across the vast table along with countless papers. They chatted quietly to alleviate the tediousness of the work, with the scratching of quills interrupting their conversation every so often.

Another middle aged Auror sat in a nearby office, he glanced every so often at his colleagues, but mostly continued to murmur softly to himself. He gently flicked the pages of one of the many case files he had before him, his dark brown eyes drinking in every shred of information. They flicked tirelessly across the pages. His mousy hair was messy from his discarded cap, and his navy blue robes were rumpled against his thin frame.

He barely heard the oncoming footsteps.

"Austin?"

The Auror startled – wand suddenly at the ready. He looked up to see the twinkling eyes of the Hogwarts Headmaster, and realized he had his wand pointed directly at the heart of the tall warlock.

"Merlin, you spooked me, Professor Dumbledore." Austin shook himself, and quickly stowed his wand in the pocket of his robes. He rubbed his face tiredly, and rose to greet him properly.

Dumbledore chuckled, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Being an Auror makes you jumpy, does it not?"

Austin smiled wanly. "You've no idea, sir."

"Come, take a break." The headmaster gently guided the man from his office doorway to the other Aurors.

"I was looking for Alastor…" the headmaster trailed off. "But pulling you away from that dreadful paperwork seems to be my new goal. Besides – " Dumbledore smiled, "Alastor is probably avoiding this filing work in favour of a nice glass of Firewhiskey."

Austin laughed softly, and the other Aurors who now sat before them smiled broadly at the Headmaster as he guided their comrade over.

Dumbledore was always a welcome sight of reassurance and justice at the headquarters.

They rose, some setting down cups and others making a few final notes before coming to greet him.

A stout wizard came up first, grinning at his old headmaster. "Hello sir, we- " The man froze – his typically open expression, growing slack. Caution and a glint of worry shone in his eyes. His mouth was open with words he had failed to say, and his tanned skin growing slightly pale. He stared over Dumbledore's shoulder, his wand slowly materialising out of his robes.

The Headmaster turned, eyebrows raised quizzically.

The telltale glowing light of a Patronus was filling the room, and the noise of an unsettled scuffle of Aurors tensing and pulling their wands out to point at the odd glow.

A shape of an animal appeared – a wolf. It's silvery tail of light following it. It paced the room urgently, ears tipped back in fear and bright eyes wide.

A soft, rough voice filled the silence: "_We've been captured. Fleetrock Forest. I repeat, we've been captured. It's the Hanleys_."

The wolf stopped to stare at the Aurors before abruptly being snuffed out.

The desperation of the quiet, feminine voice reverberated in the room.

"…Fleetrock… Near the place we've been watching? Where the damn cloaked psychos have been going?" A muscular wizard snarled suddenly. He slammed the table with a huge hand, and disappeared with a sudden crack.

"Oh my…No…" a young female Auror whispered incoherently. She suddenly apparated.

"Alert the others!" her partner snapped. He too, was gone from the conference room.

Austin breathed in a shaky breath before turning to the still, tall frame of Dumbledore beside him. "I've heard of them…The Hanelys I mean. I'll go tell the rest of us." He moved quickly – rushing to the doorway. Before apparating he turned to the old Headmaster, his gaunt face was serious. "Are you going –"  
A crack resonated.

Dumbledore was already gone.

* * *

He appeared in a dark forest… Or what was left of a forest. Trees were strewn across the ground. He deftly moved around the sad shape of many broken saplings, travelling to where the dancing light of wands aglow lay ahead.

His periwinkle robes stirred the leaves ever so slightly. He came to a great oak and was met by a troubled, young female Auror.

"Dalhousie," he addressed her softly, "where have they gone?"

She shook her head, trembling slightly with emotion and her blonde locks swayed. She looked up to the great man before her. His eyes were a cold blue flame – like gas on a burner. His face was illuminated by the moon, so that his pained expression was evident.

"We heard them disapparate as soon as we showed up…" she said bitterly.

Dumbledore's piercing eyes surveyed the bodies that were clumped across the forest floor.

Some – if not all, were cloaked figures: Dark Wizards that were undoubtedly killed by the Hanely family.

He recognized the mangled body of Richard Hanely to his right. His body was slumped, defeated. It was clear they had ruined his dignity before his death.

He grimaced slightly at the sight of Alexis Hanely gripping her dead son. She wasn't too far off from her husband. Just like in her school days, they were never too far apart. Even now, in death, her face was the mask of defiance, just as it was then. She clutched her dead boy even when she was dead herself. He stared blankly from her iron grip.

Dumbledore ripped his gaze away, and moved slowly on… Moving around the bodies of men.

He saw two girls – judging by their fighting suits to be Hanelys – laying together not too far from an immense oak.

He sighed softly and moved towards them. Dalhousie followed, watching with subdued horror.

The cracks of more Aurors apparating resounded through the forest. The calls and gasps of people discovering the scene becoming a hum as more of them came to help the distress call.

Dumbledore shook his head in deep sadness as he saw the still form of one of the girls. Her light brown hair was splayed across the leaves. Her springy curls, so familiar to Dumbledore because she had inherited them from her mother, his former pupil, were dripping blood. Her still form was intertwined with who he presumed to be her sister.

Their hands were locked.

This girl, her sister, had deep brown hair like her father. It was pulled into a dishevelled braid. She gripped her sister with a strange ferocity. While her light haired sibling's face seemed peaceful – a faint smile on her bloodied lips and her wide blue eyes staring blankly at her sister – the dark haired girl's face was contorted with pain and determination. Her eyes seemed to be squeezed in concentration, and her mouth took in a shaky breath.

She was tense. Her muscles tightened, and locked as if to receive a blow.

Dumbledore stared in wonder as she moved ever so slightly. She pulled in yet another wretched breath and squeezed her dead sister's hand. The bones of her knuckles were a stark white. The girl turned her beaten head to look up at Dumbledore, who felt a fierce respect for this young woman taking hold of him.

Her eyes widened as she saw him – the same striking blue as her mother. He smiled ever so slightly at her.

"You came," she breathed softly.

He nodded to her calmly. Her eyes closed, and she lolled to the side. Once again she was focused entirely on her breathing.

He kneeled down beside her. This little fighter… This pint-sized survivor…

Dalhousie, who had stood quietly watching this unfold in front of her with wonder, had begun to run to the others. "She's alive! The daughter is alive!"

The Aurors who were pulling back the cloaks and prodding at the bodies of the wizards, erupted in cheers, followed by a wave of questions.

"Rowan's alive?" one of the older Aurors cried delightedly.

There was a sudden burst of conversation, cheers and calls to one another, as the Aurors processed the news.

Dumbledore gently pulled the girl's hand away from her sister, with all the tenderness he could possess. The girl – _Rowan_ – he corrected himself, moaned softly at this. He picked her up carefully in his arms and held her close so she wouldn't jostle too much as they Disapparated.

He paused to glance at her strained expression.

"I'll make sure it stays that way," he murmured softly to her, before disappearing with a crack that echoed through the forest.

* * *

**A\N: Bit of a transition chapter, but I felt as though the first encounter between Dumbledore and Rowan needed to be shown. Thank you for reading!** **I appreciate it greatly!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Three -**

**- Rowan Hanely -**

* * *

I could feel the warmth of dwindling sunlight touching my skin. The soft of bed sheets made my skin feel fragile. My legs burned the most – I could almost feel the scars forming. Cotton clothing that was snug against me. I could sense the sticky oppression of bandages too. What I felt most of all though, was the hollow disappointment of waking up.

I stirred and groaned softly at the dull pain in my side and the pinching of the muscles I used. They felt noodle-like, completely useless. My eyes felt glued shut by some putrid seal formed by what I felt like was an endless sleep I had endured for eternity. I struggled to open them, and in turn was almost blinded by the waning sun that streamed through the high windows all around the room.

I blearily took in the small twin bed I was in: ridiculously comfortable, with velvety white sheets and a puffy pillow cradling my head. I turned my head, to spot a bedside table. My mouth pulled down into a confused scowl. It was covered in sweets, cakes and a large bouquet of sunflowers – their yellow petals contrasting against the stone of the walls.

Who the hell would send me flowers?

_No one_, my mind answered itself viciously. _Remember what happened -_

I shook my head – ignoring the pulling and stretching of my cuts.

_Denial_, my mind snickered.

Again, the need to distract myself came about.

Slowly, I placed my shaking hands on the edges of the bed, gripping for support; I hoisted myself up on my elbows.

I gently huffed with the effort, my lank hair's tangled waves fluffing out with my breath. I saw that the immense room was filled with beds like mine: all soft white with tables to match.

Funny thing was, I was the only one there… No one else lay immobile in bed. No healers puttering around. I frowned – it hurt to do so but it was instinct. Some hospital this was…only one patient…Maybe the rest were on a different floor…I remembered being told that St. Mungo's was always packed.

"Ah, Miss Hanely. You're awake," a deep, charismatic voice called.

I turned to the voice, my eyes dragging along as I took in the giant stone columns and walls.

I gaped at who I saw watching me closely.

"Albus Dumbledore," I said in an awed voice.

The man, the great wizard nodded at me as he walked with a mild, modest grace. His long silvery-white hair flowed gently with his quick gait. His beard, which reached his midsection, could not conceal the soft smile that had formed on his wise face. His light green robes were immaculate.

I felt my dry throat close up even more, if that were possible. Sweat was slowly beginning to collect on my brow. My bandages itched with the new found moisture. I watched as the man my parents had praised so often and so genuinely came to stand beside my bed. He was so very tall. A straight, thin build that exuded elegance. I bent my head back slightly to look him in the face.

His sparkling blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're here?" he said calmly.

I nodded – if somewhat dumbly.

"This," he gestured to the walls, to the place itself, his robes shining in the light, "is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"How… did I get…here?" my voice was scratchy from disuse. My eyes widened at my lack of politeness. "Sir!" I added.

I swallowed in embarrassment.

He chuckled. "Well you were at St. Mungo's just for initial care… Though the truth us, I felt as though you would be better off here." He moved closer to the small table, leaning ever so slightly to look through my sweets. I watched with half-hearted amusement as his long fingers picked through the various boxes and wrappers. His eyes were alight with interest.

He turned his piercing gaze on me.

A sudden realization washed over me when he gave me that curious look. Light blue robes… A form so tall, it nearly obstructed my view of the oak tree…

My eyes widened, and I felt my muscles tighten with a painful clutch. A great shock of gratitude and wonder tugged at my senses. I grabbed a fistful of sheets.

Now Dumbledore didn't look curious at all, he looked alarmed. "Rowan…" His voice was cautious, and concerned when he used my first name.

"Y-you were the one who came for me…when I sent my Patronus. You were the one who saw I had…lived." My voice shook. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

He smiled, gently patting my arm. "Yes, it was me… and you will have to tell me how you managed to send a Patronus message at some point please. I am very interested."

He watched me, as I looked from him to my surroundings in minute glances. My confusion grew.

"Questions? Ask away. I feel as though questions are most healthy and vital when they've been asked and they're floating free in the air around us." A grin was now masked on his face.

I turned to the man who leaned intently towards me. The ghost of old, unstoppably curious self writhed somewhere beneath the heavy stupor I felt had clouded my mind. But still, Dumbledore waited, ready to hang on to my every word.

"Was it you that took care of me while I was here?" My voice was small.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I cannot take credit for that. I asked the Hogwart's 'nurse'" he paused to make air quotations, "to come in. She didn't mind in the slightest. Lovely woman, Madame Pomfrey is." He mused for a moment. "Clever too."

"I'll have to thank her…" I murmured, looking away from his thoughtful gaze. I twisted the sheets in my hands…thinking of how many 'thank you' messages were in order.

Oh well. All well deserved.

_I am alive…after all_, I thought bitterly.

"Where are the students might I ask?" I was still staring out the window at the rays of the setting sun. It was so warm and bright only moments ago.

"Well, it's summer Rowan. They've all went home for vacation. But they should be back in a few weeks." His tone didn't mock me for my lack of insight.

I smiled wanly. "Summer vacation isn't something I'm familiar with… I was home schooled you know…" I turned towards him once more only to see he had organized my sweets by type, and what I presumed to be, by sender. I spotted a plate of what looked to be rocks.

"What," I pointed to the platter, "is that?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "That would be Hagrid's gift to you. He's our gamekeeper here at Hogwarts. You will probably meet him sometime soon." He pointed to a row of packaged sweets.

"These are from Minerva McGonagall. She is a Transfiguration professor here. You will meet her soon too…"

His eyes twinkled even more at the small package he picked up. It was small, and he opened it carefully, revealing a jumping, perfectly life-like chocolate frog. It promptly hopped away, disappearing under a nearby bed – showing the likeness of Albus Dumbledore in the small box.

I smiled weakly and he winked.

"I was hoping you would get my card…A bit vain, but it is by far my greatest accomplishment, I assure you." His voice was brutally honest.

"Hmmm… I wonder, do chocolate frogs stop moving once they are in your mouth?" I asked absently.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I guess the squirming and satisfaction of biting down is what gives them their charm."

I choked out a laugh.

It hurt. It hurt me to laugh, both physically and in some inexplicable centre in my body. It made me feel as if I were losing something. A memory – of my sister staring – her hauntingly beautiful face came into my mind's eye.

I heard myself gasp. A broken sound, like air was being deflated.

I could feel a bizarre tingling, like the sensation one gets when numbness subsides. My hands shook ever so slightly. I felt the bandages on my face becoming itchier as hot tears assaulted my wounds, and escaped my wide, shocked eyes.

The gentle weight of someone sitting beside me on my bed, barely registered.

I gripped the roots of my hair, ignoring the protests of my aching bones, my ruined skin. I felt great shudders ripping through me, as if I had lost all warmth. As if my new home were the dark side of the moon. No air, no warmth, nothing.

I could feel tendrils of my hair sticking to my wet cheeks. I felt a cool hand pushing them behind my ears, and gently rubbing my hunched back.

I bet now – if I looked in the mirror, I would not see Rowan Hanely.

This was not me… _I am a Hanely_.

I stifled my great sounds of anguish abruptly. The gentle, comforting motion of Dumbledore rubbing my back, stopped. He was uncertain.

I opened my eyes – which I had shit with such a vengeance, as if no light would ever seep in. I saw that the evening sunlight had been sucked from the room; flickering candlelight now cast a sweet glow on everything.

I straightened by back and roughly wiped the tears from my burning face with my sleeve. I barely flinched as the bandages shifted.  
I turned to the great man who sat next to me, the man who had saved my life. His face was grave, yet inconceivably compassionate.

"You're my guardian aren't you?"

He stared at me with a deep sense of honesty. He nodded.

I took in a great shuddering breath. "Because they're all dead."

He moved his hand to my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I'm afraid so, yes."

I looked down at my hands, which were clasped together tightly. I realized I would never see them again.

"I suppose acceptance or a torturous existence is my choice." I turned my hands over, looking at the intricate lines of my palms, as my clear voice seemed to echo on, in my mind.

He startled. I could feel how surprised he was at my words. I looked up at him once more.

He opened his mouth to answer.

"I choose acceptance," I whispered.

He squeezed my shoulder again, before carefully rising up from his seat on my bed. He still stared at me with the same deeply thoughtful expression. "That is a brave choice."

He slowly walked away, and I watched him go, but he stopped suddenly, a few steps before the doorway.

He turned to me; his voice was soft when he spoke. "I have a pensieve you know… Should you ever want to give a memory up."

I sat perfectly still, digesting what he had offered. I shook my head slowly. "I don't feel it's right to give it up right now sir, but I'll let you know."

He smiled, all seriousness having evaporated. "Alright then Rowan, I'll come back and have dinner with you later."

He began to turn the corner with quick steps when a sudden fear shot through me.

"WAIT!"

He peeked around the corner, his expression a mix of concern and inquisitiveness.

"I don't like fish…" I mumbled.

"No fish then!" he declared, a whimsical smile gracing his face. I heard his footsteps growing farther away.

I frowned again.

That was probably the only peace I was going to get for years to come – knowing that I wouldn't have to eat fish.

* * *

**...Well thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. **


	4. Chapter 4

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Four -**

**- Rowan Hanely -**

* * *

A slight breeze ruffled my hair and I gently tucked it behind my ears.

It felt so damn good to be outside. I breathed in, relishing in the fresh summer air.

I have called Hogwart's home for a few weeks now, and I had already been nursing a bourgeoning affection for the place. I loved its magical walls, the ghosts, the finicky moving staircases, the corridors that seemed to go on for miles…even the poltergeist, Peeves. It exuded elegance with its splendid paintings, the impossible gothic feel of the stone ceilings and the towers, which were so tall they threatened to brush the clouds.

I loved my long walks around the castle, hobbling around in a muted stupor for the first few days, and finally being able to walk with ease. I was strangely proud that I could walk without grimacing in pain. I was moving on. I really did enjoy poking around the library and the various strange halls that weren't there the next day… but you could only stay inside for so long.

I had missed the breeze, the blades of grass murmuring quiet secrets to one another and the chirp of birds.

Even the heady sent of dirt.

I smirked to myself. _Wow, Rowan. You missed dirt. _

_I miss a lot actually..._

A deep-rooted pain in my chest.

I ripped my gaze from the impossibly large school, not before remarking how its windows glinted brightly in the late afternoon sunshine. The green grass and the darkness of the nearby lake reflected ever so slightly.

I scampered across the grass, scowling at my loss of control – no real direction in mind.

Don't think about it.

_Yeah_, I scoffed internally, _that definitely helps with the whole 'avoiding it' plan – thinking about it constantly. _

I plopped down on a rock that stood, if somewhat precariously, over a hill.

A tiny, rock-filled path, led down to a squat hut. The path passed by my little rock viewpoint.

Dumbledore had told me that Hagrid lived on the grounds…

My brow furrowed, and I pulled my dangling limbs up so I could sit Native-style on my rock.

I felt another soft breeze and closed my eyes to let the sunlight caress my face.

It felt good to have gotten rid of those bandages. Even Dumbledore seemed please to have seen that my face only had a few faint lines on it - scratches really. Except my lip, a nasty deep wound had split it. It would take a while to heal.

He, of course, had told me to follow Madame Pomfrey's parting suggestions to a tee.

_Albus Dumbledore_… I thought, with a deep, undeniable sense of gratitude, _had certainly earned the right to tell me what to do_. I looked up to him. He was my source of consistence, of answers and quirky advice.

I remembered the conversation we had as I left the infirmary, a bottle of 'Skin Repair In a Fix!' gripped tightly in my hand. It's peachy colour contrasting with my pale ghostly skin.

* * *

_"Your temporary lodgings will be one of the wings in my office… It's typically used if a minister wants to stay the night or the Headmaster has a special guest." _

_His evergreen robes swayed with him. He moved quickly, but with a relaxed posture down the long corridors. Portraits nodded respectfully towards us as he passed by. _

_Then I stopped, realizing what he had just said. Several feet in front of me, he paused too, realizing my sudden halt, and turned on his heel to stare quizzically at my still form. _

_I held up my hands, bottle still clenched in one of them. "Wait wait wait, temporary – " _

_He peered through his half moon spectacles at me with a stern look, which abruptly cut me off. "Until school starts of course… You'll be sorted into one of the four houses."_  
_  
He cocked his head to the side. _

_I pulled my chin up. __Oh, boy. Here comes question period… _

_"What did you think I meant, Rowan?" _

_"That maybe I wouldn't be staying at Hogwarts…" I hated how I couldn't explain myself. Nor could I explain the deep cracking feeling the thought of leaving here gave me, or why I tried to cover it up with that defiant expression. I'm sure I couldn't fool Albus Dumbledore, but that wouldn't stop me from trying. _

_He smiled in a soothing fashion. "Never, Rowan. This is where you'll stay. As long as you want." _

_A wave of relief washed over me. "Thank you…" I mumbled. _

_He nodded and turned to keep walking. I started after him, pulling up my black borrowed boys trousers as I went along. They fit all right… But of course, they couldn't be perfect. They were borrowed, after all. _

_I managed to catch up and walked quietly by his side. I threw glances at the walls at varying intervals so I would be able to get back here. Hogwarts… No matter how gifted you were… stole your sense of direction and promptly smothered it. _

_I looked up at his wise face. "So… students are sorted…by you." It was meant to be a question but my flat tone refused to let the upper inflection come through. _

_He shook his head in an amused way, as if he had some delicious secret. "I don't have that honour. Besides, I don't think I would to such a good job as the one who sorts the students now." _

_I rolled my eyes, getting a soft smile out of the headmaster. "Awful modest – so who is responsible for sorting all of us younglings out?" _

_"Person?" again, Dumbledore shook his head and chuckled, "No." _

_My eye brows were raised in curiousity, I'm sure they threatened to meet my hairline, when I turned to watch, with growing interest as we came to stand in front of a particularly mean looking gargoyle. It almost seemed expectant – a particular malice in its supernatural face. It's stone was slightly scuffed as if someone had attempted to attack it – but failed miserably. It glowed in a gentle light from some window high above. _

_"So," I prodded, "what has the job of sorting?" _

_He paused, for extra effect or maybe because he wanted me to wonder even more. _

_I stared at him with more excitement that I intended to. I could almost picture myself – ridiculously eager with big blue eyes all wide and enlightened. _

_He smiled when he looked to me. __Yup, I was definitely sporting the little girl look. _

_"The Sorting Hat." _

_I gasped. "My parents never told me that!" _

_Surprise flickered in his face. This was the first time I had mentioned my parents. _

_And… truth be told… I felt it. The weight of my words… Mum…and Dad. It was like an old wound reopening. I felt the delight and surprise fall from my face as I tried desperately to stitch my figurative wound shut. _

_He touched my shoulder. _

_"You are about to meet said Hat…Would you like to know the password to my office?" His voice was softer than usual. _

_I truly did appreciate his form of comfort. _

_Distraction – a beautiful thing. _

_I nodded. _

_He turned to the gargoyle. "Candied apples," he pronounced clearly. _

_The stone gargoyle began to move in the most life-like fashion. I jumped back, tense with worry. I watched it as it leaped like a ballerina to the side, clearing a path. Behind where it once stood, was the beginning of a stone staircase, which spiralled upwards towards the unknown. I took a few tentative steps forward. My foot apprehensively touching where the gargoyle had stood guard. I eyed it warily, but it was as still and stony as before. _

_Dumbledore chuckled behind me, no doubt at my lack of trust towards the stone creature. Without meaning to, I shot him an exasperated look, which only made him chuckle more. _

_I climbed the stairs slowly, until I reached an old door with a polished knocker in the shape of a griffin. I gently pushed, and it opened with a slight creak. I stepped inside… _

_Dozens of eyes were suddenly focused on me, I froze, not even turning when I heard Dumbledore come in quietly after me. _

_"These," he said as he came to stand beside me, "are portraits of Hogwarts' many former Headmasters and Headmisstresses. _

_I looked up at them all – some smiled at me, others glowered. _

_"How do you do?" I said softly. I bowed slightly. _

_A chorus erupted among them. _

_"Oh fine fine! Thank you!" One burly man said back, grinning. _

_"I'm dead. What do you think?" another snarled. His face was sallow and grim. _

_"Don't mind him, he's a bit bitter," the lady beside him, told me. The rude portrait shot her a nasty look from his frame. _

_A colourful portrait grinned at me. "Such a nice girl, I wish I had more of those during my time. Cheeky brats they were…" _

_I was at a loss for words, as I set the 'Skin Repair' bottle on a small table near the coat rack that was hanging in thin air near the great door. _

_Dumbledore came to my rescue… Again. _

_"Alright, alright! Thank you for greeting our new guest. This is Rowan Hanely, she will be staying in the Headmaster's guestroom for a little while, so do not be alarmed if she is wandering around in my office." _

_Most of the portraits nodded, smiled or clasped their hands together happily. _

_A few scowled. _

_Gits__, I thought absently. _

_I looked around the circular room, and loved how its high windows allowed sunlight to pour into the room's every nook and cranny. To the far back of the room, an immense desk with clawed feet stood. It was piled high with papers and various devices, which puffed out small spurts of smoke. Some of them seemed only half finished, and quite pitiful – their springs poking out and a sad whirring sound coming from them. A great high-backed chair stood behind the desk – no doubt reserved for the headmaster. A smaller, but none the less still quite grand visitor's chair sat opposite across the desk. _

_I stepped towards the desk – gazing in awe at the immense library that was crammed into shelves that lined all available space along the walls. _

_Two doors on opposite sides of the room were closed; each also had their own brass knockers. _

_I turned back to Dumbledore and the portraits who had silently watched my slow, amazed steps through the office. _

_His eyes were twinkling. _

_I gestured to the room as a whole. "It's a very… interesting living space, sir." _

_He laughed, and watched as my gaze was rudely averted from his to a golden perch that stood to his right. _

_On it, was a beautiful exotic bird. It was huge – with deep red plumage all over its body and a startling golden tail. Its sharp claws were shining gold and its beak had the same rich colour. Its onyx eyes regarded me with a bright, inquisitive look. I took a few steps toward it, utterly drawn in by its beauty, until I stood eye level with it, its gaze seeming to penetrate my mind as it looked into my wide eyes. _

_"Well," I said softly to it, "you seem to be a perfectly self-sufficient intelligent creature." His shiny body and sparking eyes were proof. _

_It seemed pleased with my words, clicking its beak, and then cocking its head. _

_I pretended to look appalled. "Oh no, I'm not grovelling. You really are beautiful and smart." _

_Dumbledore laughed from behind me, no doubt remembering some male student sucking up to a female colleague. _

_The great bird leaned towards me and gently nipped at my hair. _

_"Well Fawkes certainly likes you!" my headmaster's voice boomed _

_I slowly raised my hand to pet the bird's head. It cooed slightly and pressed into my touch. _

_"Mmm… A lot of animals like me." I turned to Dumbledore, still caressing Fawkes. "Do you think it's because I'm an Animagus?" _

_He frowned. "Your Animagus form is a wolf, am I correct?" _

_I nodded, tickling under Fawkes' beak. _

_"As is your Patronus…" he muttered thoughtfully. _

_I stopped petting Fawkes and turned to the great wizard who stood pondering with a far away look. _

_"You won't tell anyone…will you?" My voice became solemn. _

_He shook his head. "Your talent, your choice." _

_I nodded in thanks, and found myself continuing to talk. "My whole family were Animagi you know…all wolves…like a pack. I learned to cast a Patronus and have it sent off to another location from my father. I figured you'd like to know…" I trailed off. _

_"Of course!" he exclaimed, eyes widening at my explanation. "I showed the technique to a few Aurors some time ago. I wanted to know if it could be taught. Your father must have been there. No doubt he would have taught it to his wife and children…" _

_I steeled myself when I heard this. "My father had always tried to protect us… Primarily with knowledge." _

_Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "The world's most potent weapon, if I do say so myself." _

_I swallowed, trying to rid myself of the catch in my throat. _

_"Now!" he clasped his hands together, "I have a proposition for you." _

_He bustled to the wall that held an enormous shelf behind his desk. I snapped my head up staring at the magnificently worn hat that sat comfortably on the shelf next to a vicious looking sword. _

_I cocked an eyebrow. "That's the Sorting Hat?" _

_Dumbledore put a finger to his lips. "Don't insult him…" _

_He sat down in the luxurious chair an peered at me over his spectacles. "Rowan, I can sort you now, or we can wait to have you sorted with the rest of the first years." _

_I opened my mouth but he held up his hand. _

_"Need I remind you, it will cause a bit of a stir to have such a mature 'first year' You'll look... quite out of place." _

_I scowled. "No doubt." _

_Fidgeting, I felt my brow furrow as I thought it over. Dumbledore sat patiently at his desk, tinkering a bit with the various mechanisms on his desk. _

_I finally willed myself to speak. "I…don't want attention drawn to me. But I feel as though it would be unfair to just drop in out of nowhere into a house. I should go through the process, as everyone else did." _

_Dumbledore smiled. "Your choices always make me exceedingly proud, Rowan." _

_I smiled crookedly. "Thank you." _

_He pointed to the door that stood to the left of me. "Those will be your quarters for now. It has a washroom and I've put some of your things on the bed. My room is opposite, should you ever need me." I eyed the door. "Go on!" he motioned. _

_I took the few steps, and then yanked open the door spying a huge four-poster bed with deep blue sheets. A great window let a stream of light in, the stone walls were a soft blue along with curtains that were tied by little blue bows. A washroom was visible in the far corner. _

_I stared at the odd assortment of things on my bed. _

_Then I saw it. _

_"My wand!" I yelled happily. I snatched it and held it in my hands. Its wood, had softer lighter grains in it which gave the illusion of a whirlpool, and it was reassuring to know it had picked me. It was something I would always have. _

_A few scraggly t-shirts of mine lay on the bed. _

_I felt a deep gratitude towards Dumbledore for having gone to our destroyed campsite to get all this… _

_Even my fighting suit laid repaired and cleaned to perfectly across my pillows. Seeing it caused a prickling feeling in the back of my throat. _

_My eyes landed on the dresser beside my bed, where a crumpled photo lay. _

_My heart stopped. _

_It featured my entire family. It was the photo my father carried everywhere he went. I picked it up with shaky hands. We were all smiling, with Willow and I throwing a sly wink at the camera. Flynn smiled shyly, while my mother and father grinned and pulled us close. _

_Seeing all their faces again, even if only like this… I knew that I owed Dumbledore everything._

* * *

I opened my eyes, realizing how numb my legs had gotten having been crossed while I basked in my reverie.

I slid my hand into my pocket, feeling the familiar crumpled picture, next to the coolness of my wand.

It reassured me – a weight that pulled my mind back down to Earth – to reality.

Reality – where I was beginning to hear a series of grunts and huffs from behind me. I twisted my torso, flinching at the pain from my mending ribs, to see a massive man carrying two crates down the path.

He towered over everything. His shirt, made of different animal skins, was stretched to its breaking point across his wide shoulders. He walked slowly down the path, his feet leaving immense imprints in the dirt of the path. His great bushy beard was the same deep black of his wild, tangled hair. He had the darkest eyes I'd ever seen, a sparkling noir.

"Hey!" I called out to him, "you need some help with those?"

For a moment, I was worried he'd get angry with me. He was clearly capable… It was an insult to think otherwise.

He stopped, finally noting my presence. He eyes me quizzically. I expected the worst, and I braced myself.

Then, his face broke out into a beaming smile, his teeth contrasted with the beetle-black of his beard. He began to saunter over to where I sat.

"Well! I was wonderin' when I was gonna see ye!" His voice was loud, yet strangely kind.

I climbed off the rock, coming to walk next to him. Oddly enough, it was comfortable. None of the crushing awkwardness I had begun to feel with people lately. The discomfort and alienation. The deep fear of their questions.

His tall form blotted out the sun. "No doubt. This was my first time outside since I got here." I smirked up at him.

He shifted the crates in his arms. "Well I heard ye' got pretty banged up…Dumbledore wouldn't have let ye' out until he knew ye' were in tip top shape." He glanced at my split lip. "Or close to it."

I smiled crookedly.

"I'm Hagrid, by the way." He looked a bit fuddled, as if he wanted to hold out his hand to shake but realized that he held two crates.

My smile grew – much to my surprise.

"I'm Rowan... Rowan Hanely," I said softly. I noticed that we had neared the tiny hut on the edge of the darkened forest.

So I was right, this was his house.

"Oh, I know!" he said smiling down at me. "Didja get my cakes?"

_Oh…the rocks… _

His face was so excited and expectant.

I looked at the trail ahead of me. "Yes, yes I did. Thank you so much!"

I didn't lie… I did get them… Hopefully he didn't ask how they were…

He grinned broadly. "Great!"

_Phewph. I wouldn't want to hurt him… He was so bloody nice. _

He stopped directly in front of the small house, dropping the crates with a great crash.

He wiped his hands on his pants, and then turned to me, a cautious expression on his face.

"Ye know, if you're a bit squeamish you might not wanna look."

I shrugged. I had a strong stomach. His hands were almost the same size as the width of the crate, as he slowly opened them.

Inside them, was a supply of red meat – raw as ever. I wrinkled my nose slightly.

He grinned from where he leaned over the meat, which had begun to attract flies. "Oh I like you! You're not screamin' or yowlin' about the smell."

I swatted at the flies half-heartedly. "Yet."

He guffawed, and then reached for a set of enormous metal buckets, which sat in front of his doorway.

"Well I'm gonna be sorting out the food meat from the rotten stuff. Feel free to join," he informed me.

I stared at the masses of various ligaments and guts.

_Aw, what the hell. _

I took a step forward, plunging my hands into the crate. It was oddly slimy, and the fats were definitely squishy.

Hagrid's eyes widened. "I wasn't expecting that."

I pulled out some pieces and threw the blacker meat into the scrap pail. "It goes faster with the two of us."

"Yer' right."

We quietly separated the meat, only the gently thud of pieces hitting the pail along with the small cries of animals from the forest nearby filled the air.

I was almost done my crate.

"What… exactly is this meat for?" I asked him skeptically. I had paused mid-throw, waiting for his answer.

He gave me a funny look. "Merlin, Rowan, don't look so worried. We're not feeding this to the students! It's for the Thestrals."

I frowned. "Thestrals?"

His face was alight with happiness. "Beautiful beasts! They pull the carriages to Hogwarts from the station. Look a lot like horses. But different ye' know? Most people can't seem 'em. Only those that have seen death…which makes them a bad omen to some. Still, marvellous creatures."

Obviously he adored them.

I chuckled. "Show me them sometime?"

He looked as if I had given him a present on Christmas morning. "Of course!"

I threw the last piece of meat into the pail. "By the way," I attempted at non-chalance, "how are the students here?"

He looked down thoughtfully. "Well I suppose they're like everyone else out there. Some are slimy. Some are dark." He slopped a chunk into the pail, and then continued. "Some are truly good." He gestured to me with a bloody hand. "Like yourself."

I looked down at the soft grass beneath my feet – the sun was beginning to set. I looked up, peering from under my lashes as he continued on.

"Ye' know," he said gruffly, "me mum left when I was young… and my Pa died while I was here at Hogwarts. Dumbledore let me stay here, live here. Wonderful man he is, Dumbledore."

I had a small intake of breath.

_An orphan._

The word seemed so odd in my mind. He and I were the same, yet so different.

I smiled at him, and touched his great shoulder.

"He is a great man…"

The final rays of light were stolen from the grounds. A hushed darkness came to fall upon the land, and I turned my gaze on the towering castle.

"I have to go, Hagrid... but may I come by for some tea sometime?"

My voice was tentative. Inviting yourself was always awkward.

He grinned. "Of course, love! Come see me everyday any day."

I smiled, squeezing his shoulder then turned to journey up to the school.

My shoes scuffed the pebbles along the path.

I wondered how my family would like Hagrid. They'd adore the man, I was sure…

I felt sometimes as if thoughts would be all I would have left someday. It pained me to think that my family had become a bundle of memories, of questions.

I realized that I had come to stand before the great doors of Hogwarts…more importantly before a certain tall, thin wizard who stood in front of them. His face held a fatherly concern.

"You know," he smiled at my curious look, "I had worried that you had been foolishly exploring the Forbidden Forest."

Oh, so that was the name of the great expanse of woods. Now that I thought about it, the place did have a bizarre mystic feel.

I shook my head, my unruly dark waves flying about.

"Oh no…" I pointed to Hagrid's hut. "I was sorting meat with Hagrid."

Dumbleore chuckled, staring at me with a look I could not describe.

I peered down at my bloody meat – covered fingers and nails. "Speaking of which…May I go wash my hands?"

Dumbledore stared at my outstretched hands, grinning. "Of course, Rowan, of course."

I took in his ethereal powerful aura, his twinkling eyes, his soft white hair, the deep purple of his robes and the positive look he always wore for everyone no matter what. Hagrid and I, along with others I'm sure, would always know him as a hero.

"You know," I told him, "I'm glad you took Hagrid in. He's wonderful."

He paused, and then put his arm around my shoulders.

"I'm sure he thinks the exact same thing about you, Rowan."

* * *

**Well that's all! Hmmm.. More fluff than anything, but I'm trying to get Rowan's life as of now down pat... Thank you for reading! Believe me, I just wanna get the Marauders in there, but I will do it progressively! Thanks again!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Five -**

**- Rowan Hanely - **

* * *

A gentle knock on my doorway caused me to shift beneath my heavy covers, and turn to the sound.

I had been lazing around all morning, my nose stuck in book after book, and my body clad in threadbare striped pyjamas. At first, this sort of experience had thrilled me. I had never lain around in bed… I had always been rushing, moving, training and travelling, before. Now? I wish I could duel someone more than ever - just to get out my extra energy.

My bed, which was littered with books of all sorts, squeaked loudly with my movement.

Dumbledore stood, smiling brightly, at the door. I marked my page with a piece of parchment and set it down on the pillow beside me, giving him my full-undivided attention.

"You've raided the library, I see?" His voice was good-natured, as always.

I nodded sheepishly, then rubbed my tired eyes. "I figured it would do me some good. I want to learn some new spells…" I touched the cover of the book I had just set down, smoothing its ancient wrappings. "Besides, I have a soft spot for Fawkes. It would be simply disrespectful to him if I didn't learn more about phoenixes." I finger-combed my hair thoughtfully, tugging out the little knots. "Funny masochistic creatures."

He grinned. Today, I noted, he wore pale blue robes that matched his eyes. His long sleeves were embroidered with moons and stars… The light silver of the thread work sparkled in the sunlight as he came to sit on the edge of my bed.

"I am hoping," he said in a mock serious tone, "that you will return all these. Or Madame Pince will have my head."

I stretched, and reached over to my dresser to get my wand. I gently waved it towards the books, placing them into a neat, stacked pile next to Dumbledore.

"Funny you should say that, I was planning on bringing them back today," I said absently. I was thinking about how I would be getting more books while I was down there…

Dumbledore smoothed his robes, and was very quiet for a moment, then he looked at me. "Well, I'm afraid you'll have to postpone that until tomorrow."

I frowned. "Why? Do you have something you need me to do?"

I couldn't deny how fragile the façade of my frown was. I was dying to help Dumbledore out with something… My sense of uselessness was growing with each and every day. I was fidgety as school came closer and closer. _I needed to do something_. I visited Hagrid at least once a day, helping him with his Gamekeeper duties until he shooed me away. I was pouring information into my brain with frequent visits to the library. I jogged around the grounds. I had fed the meat Hagrid and I had separated to the Thestrals.

I adored them, the Thestrals, I mean. Their soft, skittish demeanour and their timid affection, made me wonder how anyone could liken them to 'bad omens'. Sure, they were a coal black with leathery skin, bones that jutted out no matter how much you fed them, a knobbly spine that they loved to be scratched, great spreading wings that reminded me of fruit bats and inconceivably dark eyes. But all the same… Hagrid was right. They were lovely creatures, and they were a lot like horses…shyly huffing or nipping your hair. Except, you know… they had wings and were invisible to most people.

All in all, the fact that Hogwarts was about to be filled with hundred of students and a handful of teachers in just a couple of days, both excited me and made me want to stay in this room forever. I wanted to go to class, to learn, to better my skills but the thought of having to meet so many new people…It didn't scare me, but it did not appeal to me what so ever. I already froze up with Hagrid from time to time, and I had come to cherish the man more than I could say.

And Filch? Don't get me started on Filch, with his ratty hair, his squinty, watery, red-rimmed eyes, his sneering gaunt face… _and his bloody cat._

Needless to say, I only nodded to him upon our introduction and that is all I intend our interactions to consist of. The absolute maximum that is. He seemed to be one of those bitter people who had nothing better to do than to squeeze the happiness and light out of people.

_Not quite a sadist, but damn close._

Dumbledore thought I was being harsh when I told him this after running into Filch after we walked quietly down to visit Madame Pomfrey. I had shrugged and told him what Argus Filch didn't know couldn't hurt him. He could coddle his cat; feed it tuna out of wee little bowls for all I cared. He was an almost-sadist to me.

Dumbledore had tried not to smile, but I caught it anyway.

Now, beside me on my bed, he was openly smiling. He rubbed his beard in thought. "Well, technically all Hogwarts students have been asked by me, to do this."

I cocked an eyebrow. "I don't feel so special anymore."

He chuckled. "Rowan, you need to go pick up your school supplies, along with some essentials. You've put it off long enough… School starts in just two days my dear." He eyed the pair of battered trousers that were draped across the armchair nearby meaningfully.

I sighed. "I guess I do need some clothes…"

"That's not including your school uniform, your books, your ingredients…"

"I get it…" I muttered, glancing at his satisfied look. "I'll head off to Diagon Alley after I've washed up and changed."

The headmaster cocked his head. "You aren't going alone."

"I know how to get there…" I told him in an even voice, "I'm perfectly capable…"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am not insinuating you're incapable, but if I go with you it will be much faster and significantly safer."

"Sir… you have better things to do! Like finding a thirteenth use for dragon blood… or," I paused, letting my exasperation settle, "something that isn't as wasteful as accompanying me to buy things?"

He scoffed. "Tut – tut. I haven't been to Diagon Alley in quite some time. I shall enjoy a visit."

"I'll need to visit a Muggle shop too," I pressed, hoping I could dissuade him. I was grasping at straws here… Dumbledore didn't mind Muggles.

He clasped his hands together happily. "Oh! Those are simply fascinating! We could pick up some sweets while we're in the area!"

I groaned. He really was intent on wasting his time.

"_Sir…_"

He had already risen and begun to leave my room. "Now, just tell me when you've finished getting ready and we'll go." His voice was airy and calm.

I raked my hair back. _Damn it all. _

It was very difficult to get the most intelligent wizard of all time to change his mind.

Which is why I promptly gave up, climbed out of bed, and made my way to the shower.

"Where did you get all of this Muggle money?" I whispered to Dumbledore as I shifted the clothes and shoes I had picked up, in my arms.

"Oh," he said in a distracted sort of voice. "It's been collecting for years… I often find random bills and coins when I travel. I'd like to see it put to good use anyway."

"Thank you."

He simply inclined his head and continued to observe the Muggles around us. They of course, were observing right back: staring at him like he was a stark-raving lunatic.

I felt something that resembled amusement.

It had been like this ever since we got here. Dumbledore hadn't changed out of his astrology-themed robes and was quite content to stroll through London with people gaping at his appearance. They whispered, giggled and pointed… Dumbledore paid no mind to their antics though, and neither did I. They weren't familiar with our world. Nor were they familiar with the fact they were cracking half-wit jokes about a renowned wizard.

Dumbledore and I stood, quietly waiting in the line at the cash. My arms were laden with jeans, sweaters, pyjamas, t-shirts, camisoles, a few skirts I could live with because they almost reached mid calf, nylons, stockings, a pair of sneakers and a pair of nice shoes for my everyday wear, (according to Dumbledore my combat boots wouldn't be tolerated by most teachers nor would my lovely dragon hide boots, which had matched my old fighting suit. I was quite put out when I heard this.)

I felt awfully greedy. So much that I actually stammered when Dumbledore had handed me the Muggle money, but he had shook his head, silently telling me it was alright. This all reminded me of when my father and I had to make Muggle transactions. While we were camping out and travelling it was inevitable, but Dad had always taken care of the Muggle money.

_Dad had always taken care of everything_, my mind whispered viciously.

Everyone else in line had given us quite a bit of space, as if we were about to launch a loony attack on him or her, and infect them with madness. In some sick way I was happy they avoided us like the plague, I felt as though I might snap at them if they stared at me from upclose. Finally, we ended up standing at the counter, before a plump, gum-chewing-like-a-cow-chewing-cud blonde cashier. I plopped the various items on the surface of the counter, and Dumbledore smiled pleasantly at the woman. She gawked at him, her little wad of gum visible in her gaping mouth.

I sniggered, earning an eyebrow raise from Dumbledore, and pushed the right amount of money into the woman's hand. The headmaster watched with keen interest as she punched the amounts into the cash register, and then handed me the change. She bagged the clothing, all the while stealing glances at the great, tall man before her.

We wandered out, and Dumbledore began to search for a relatively quiet place to disapparate, tucking his sweets bag into his robes. I shook my head, "Now I know why we have the Statue of Secrecy. The Muggles would lose their marbles if they found out."

Dumbledore smiled down at me, and paused, he seemed to have found a quiet side street. I looked around us. No one. Then I looked back up at him. "That is true, but you can't blame them. They like things how they are. They dislike the abnormal, it makes them feel as if they've lost control." His voice was wise, and I didn't doubt a word he said.

I took a breath of air into my lungs. It wasn't as clean and crisp as Hogwarts, that's for sure. "I feel sort of bad for them," I said truthfully.

He gave me a questioning look. "And why, pray tell, is that, Rowan?"

I changed my bags from one hand to another, trying to find the proper words. I felt as though this might be the most formulated thought I had ever articulated to Dumbledore. Usually my thoughts were kept locked up tight where I could mull over them for indefinite amounts of time. "Well," I heard myself say to him with my chin pointed up, "so many Dark… or just stupid wizards mess around with them, or people from their lot die because of our foolishness, and they can never know why."

Dumbledore gave me that inexplicable look yet another time.

I shrugged up at him. "People ought to know why."

Dumbledore took my arm without another word, and the sudden grip of apparition took hold.

I squeezed my eyes shut…

Only to open them to Diagon Alley.

Dumbledore had let go of my arm, but still stood at my side on the worn cobblestone.

Dozens of witches and wizards fluttered around us. They rushed in and out of stores, or stood chatting amiably with others and some called out, advertising their wares.

I had forgotten how lively this place was.

The signs of various shops moved at random: flashing, moving letters and small caricatures dancing along the frames, urging people to come in. Owls who were perched, looking rather disgruntled outside pet shops, hooted at passer-bys blearily. Self-stirring cauldrons were shoved in windows so that the people walking by would catch their eyes on their feisty movements. Groups of men and boys admired broomsticks with muted awe. I could see Ollivander's in the distance. Where at a very young age - something the old wand-maker had frowned upon - had gotten my wand.

I touched my pocket unconsciously – the reassuring feel of it's yew wood still there.

I blinked.

People had begun to notice Dumbledore's presence and were pointing or staring in open shock. Dumbledore smiled in a shy way I had never witnessed.

"Shall we get going then?"

I smirked, and then started to walk with him through the crowded alley. "You know," I whispered to him, so only the headmaster could hear, he leaned down for a better listen, "it's not everyday these people see Albus Dumbledore strolling down Diagon Alley… I might just faint from association."

His eyes sparkled and he straightened. "Hush, Rowan. You are going to make me red in the face."

He stopped suddenly, grabbing hold of my shoulders and guiding me into the door of a shop.

I twisted around wildly. "What – "

"Robes. Madame Malkin will make them look spectacular, my dear."

The inside of the shop was covered in various robes, ties and blouses that were no doubt a must for the Hogwarts uniform. An assortment of thick, beautiful cloaks hung near a dressing room.

"How am I going to pay for this? I haven't visited Gringotts," I hissed at Dumbledore.

I glanced around and saw that several families inside the shop had begun to eye us curiously. Dumbledore's calm blue eyes reassured me as I felt a slight rising panic. I struggled to keep it under control with an angry set to my jaw.

"As your guardian, I am allowed to withdraw money from your inheritence for your essential needs. I did exactly that, and some extra spending money for the year," Dumbledore informed me calmly.

"T-thanks." I felt my jaw loosen and a spreading feeling of remorse.

_How could I ever repay this man? He had…-_

Suddenly a voice cut through my thoughts.

"Professor Dumbledore! What an unexpected surprise!" A flustered witch in immaculate deep green robes came to greet us. Her hair was piled high on her head, and she had smudges of make up around her eyes. She was smiling, with a slightly scary intensity.

No doubt this was Madame Malkin.

I gave her a pinched smile. My teeth, not exposed, because rule one of forcing a smile, is that it's best not to show your pearly whites because you end up looking quite rabid.

Dumbledore bowed slightly to the woman. _What a gentleman._

"Always a pleasure, Madame. May I present, Miss Rowan Hanely –" I nodded to her, she eyed me with blunt curiosity – "she is a new pupil at Hogwarts and needs help acquiring her new uniform."

"How wonderful! Of course I'll help her!" She beamed at me.

I tensed. _Why is she smiling so much?_

Dumbledore suddenly made a rather odd noise, which sounded something like 'Aha!' I turned to him, frowning. His eyes bored into mine and I awaited his sudden realization. "You haven't been sorted yet, Rowan. You won't be able to figure out which colours to buy… Which ties…" he looked thoughtful for a moment, "I'll send an owl to Madame Malkin once you've been place in one of the houses, and we will order your extra supplies. Is that alright Madame?" He had turned to the shopkeeper.

"Yes! Of course!"

Dumbledore smiled. "Problem solved. Now, while you get your robes, I'll head out for your cauldron and some ingredients from the apothecary."

"Could you let me go to the bookstore though?" I interjected.

Dumbledore grinned. "Absolutely."

He turned away and strolled into the stone streets with that lightweight gait of his.

I would have to say, that being poked and prodded with a tape measure was not the highlight of my day. Nor was the dread I felt when I realized that Madame Malkin was very chatty. I don't think her constant, disturbing smile was doing any good either.

It wasn't the natural smile you wore without thinking when you were genuinely content. The smile I couldn't resist when Willow and I had joked around…

I grinned ever so slightly.

_Willow would have absolutely loathed her_.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by a beaming Madame Malkin shoving a skirt into my arms.

"Here! Last one! I promise!"

_That's what you said ten minutes ago_, I thought to myself darkly. None the less, I went back into the dressing room, and tried the skirt on.

I grimaced. It showed my legs. My pale, deeply scarred with deep ragged scars… legs. I really had to figure out what that curse was… _Bloody useful and effective,_ I thought as I surveyed the scars one last time before I walked out, staring blankly at the shop owner. Only when she saw my legs did her smile falter a bit. She clicked her tongue.

_There we go._It was some weird personal triumph to have made her big sloppy grin slip up, if ever so slightly.

I walked quietly back into the cabin, and changed into my comfortable old pants. I stared thoughtfully at the skirt, and then grabbed it. _Just in case…_

To my immense relief, Dumbledore was standing with Madame Malkin at her desk, handing her some Galleons. I joined him at his side and took the bag that Madame Malkin handed to me, placing the skirt inside.

"Thank you." I willed my voice not to be stiff.

She smiled again.

I turned away quickly and Dumbledore followed me out of the store. I felt my shoulders go slack and a great sigh come from me as I walked into the bright light of the street. I rolled my shoulders, releasing all the tension that high strung woman had thrown upon me.

Of course the headmaster noticed. He cocked an eyebrow, obviously amused.

"Happy now, Rowan?"

I nodded, keeping my expression blank. Despite my carefully placed look, I knew I was stomping my boots a little more than I normally would. "I liked the Muggle stores better," I muttered.

He tapped his wand to my new pewter cauldron, shrinking it, and placing it in the pocket of his robes, all the while watching me.

I finally snapped, thinking of her great grinning face, her hyper attitude and gave him an incredulous look. "Who the hell smiles like that, all the time? Did you notice it? Is it normal?"

Dumbledore grinned. " That is salespeople in nutshell, Rowan."

I rolled my eyes. "Please just take me to the bookstore."

Dumbledore pointed up the alley. "Flourish and Blotts, it is," he declared.

* * *

Meanwhile…

* * *

Lily Evans was in an exceptionally good mood. School was to start in a just a couple of days, where she was a Prefect, where she had spent the majority of the past five years of her life without complaint and where she was to reunite with her best friend, Alice. And of course, she was in a bookstore, surrounded by her favourite smell - old books and musty knowledge.

She breathed in ever so slightly, and glanced at her list. It was written on heavy parchment in distinct green ink, with a formal heading addressed to her. It was of course the Hogwarts booklist.

She frowned to herself slightly, clicking her tongue as she realized – running her finger down the list – that she was missing a textbook. She shifted the books in the crook of her arm to check which one was missing…

_Defense Against the Dark Arts._

_As if I could forget that!_

Her bright emerald green eyes flickered around her. It had to be nearby…Flourish and Blotts usually grouped the Hogwarts books closer together to avoid confusion. She moved slowly, scanning the shelf after shelf, growing more nervous as time went on…

_What if I can't find it! Potter will be offering his damn textbook all year long with that stupid look on his face…_

She grimaced, still reading the spines of the books with a careful eye. Then she spotted it, in the middle of the row, it was placed high above where she could reach.

'Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts: All You Need To Know For Year Six' was glittering in enticing gold letters along a thick black spine high above her. Huffily, she placed her small pile of books on the floor, making sure they couldn't be knocked over then scowled as she went on her very tip-toes and stretched, grasping desperately for the book…

"Pardon me?" a rough, yet feminine voice interrupted her attempt.

She turned, panting slightly from her efforts, to see a petite girl standing at the end of the row.

Under one arm, the girl had a stack of books, in the other hand she held a large footstool. The girl, Lily realized, was no one she had ever seen before, yet they looked to be the same age. She had a rather blank expression, which only highlighted the soft scars on her face and the jagged cut across her lip. She didn't wear witch's clothing, but black cargo pants that looked as though they were for boys. The girl had rolled them so they wouldn't fall down, and she had paired a ratty white t-shirt with the battered pants, and a pair of rough-looking combat boots. But this wasn't what intimidated Lily; it was the girl's piercing blue eyes. They were bright and flashing with energy and light.

The girl smiled wanly at Lily. "Defence Against the Dark Arts book? Couldn't reach it either."

She took a few steps towards Lily, and handed her the step stool. Lily took it, and then faltered slightly when she realized how heavy it was. The redhead gave the unknown girl a surprised look. She had held it so easily with one hand.

Lily smiled gratefully pushing her fiery locks behind her ear. "Thank you… I thought I was going to have to go look like an idiot and have someone get it for me," said Lily in a very annoyed voice.

The girl nodded quickly as if she understood. "Ah well, crisis averted. Neither one of us looked like a classic, hopeless damsel in distress." The girl's tone was light-hearted but… not quite. It was as if she were very tired: wearier than anyone could know.

Lily chuckled, and placed the stool on the floor, taking the few steps up. She opened her mouth for a few parting words, but the tiny woman was already turning away. Her slender shoulders were surprisingly muscular, and she held herself with a rigid posture, despite all the books under her arm.

She turned the corner, no doubt paying for her books. Lily turned away, pulling out the book she needed, and glanced quickly to the window further down the aisle. She did a double take after what she saw.

Her headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was standing quietly in Diagon Alley right outside Flourish and Blotts. He seemed to be waiting for something, because he was whistling to himself and calmly looking about the crowded thoroughfare. His robes looked like a lake's calm waters in the sunlight that streamed into the Alley. People glanced at him as they walked by. Some beamed, some wore the same expression Lily did – outright bewilderment.

_What is he doing here?_ Lily thought. _School starts in just a couple of days… What could he be waiting for?_

Suddenly, a pleased smile broke out on Dumbledore's face, behind his long silvery beard. He was no doubt staring at whomever or whatever he was waiting for. Lily stood on her footstool, watching the scene unfold in front of her.

She saw a flash of endlessly long dark chocolate waves. A straight spine. A cat-like walk with tiny shoulders pushed defiantly back.

_The girl._

Lily's almond shaped eyes widened, and she watched with growing curiosity, as the tiny brunette greeted him. The girl fished out some books from her bag, showing them to the headmaster. A few words were shared between the two of them, before they walked, still chatting, out of Lily's line of sight.

Needless to say, the bright redhead was very confused.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed that! Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Six - **

**- Rowan Hanely - **

* * *

"I rather like that we have Care of Magical Creatures as a class…" I said thoughtfully, stowing my textbooks back in their colourful, linen Flourish and Blotts bag. "It doesn't look as though it could be boring."

The street was overflowing with wizarding humanity all around us. I did my best to shut it out – the chattering, the calls, the creaking of wooden trolleys going past. Yet at times it seeped in, and the thunderous noise of the street would put me off balance after weeks of quietude in the castle.

Dumbledore cocked his head, causing his long beard to sway, its silver colour glinting slightly. He stopped in front of a suspicious looking kiosk then peered over his spectacles at my confused look. "Unless," he said seriously, "you are dealing with Flobberworms."

I wrinkled my nose and snorted. "They even sound boring. Flobber could _never _be an exciting word. No matter which way you put it."

Dumbledore nodded, with a brief smile, then continued to stroll down the crowded street, with me trying to stick close by, so I wouldn't lose him in the crowd. He tucked his hands into the deep pockets of his flowing robes, and kept his head gently bowed, as if he were a humble peasant on a spiritual pilgrimage.

I couldn't help but smile wanly at his unassuming demeanor.

He could certainly be mistaken for a man who had reached nirvana. He had an almost unflinching knowledge of the world, but an insatiable curiosity to go with it. But yet – he still felt as I did. He sometimes held a pondering look of loss or gave me an incalculable look that faded with a smile. I was glad to make him smile, despite my inability to comprehend the man who, I supposed no one would ever try to understand. He was just too damn smart. Being an enigma, it would seem, could be a lonely existence. I felt a tug of sympathy for the man. He was alone as I was and his little smiles were all I could give back, after he had so willingly given all he could to me.

Suddenly, he came to a halt directly before the owl emporium, folding out of his quiet form. I frowned as he took a step towards a pretty gilded cage and tickled the downy feathers of a tiny barn owl.

He turned to me, face calm and thoughtful. "Speaking of magical creatures… How about an owl?"

His gaze returned to the caged owl and it hooted softly at him, its great lantern eyes peering up at the friendly face of the headmaster.

The shop owner looked eagerly at us from the shop window – I shot him a stern look, then my mouth became a straight line as I stared at Dumbledore. "I don't need an owl."

I saw his brow furrow at my firm words. "How's that?"

I shifted the bags in my hands awkwardly. "No offence, but whose going to write to me?"

I really didn't mean for my voice to be so bitter but it had seeped into my quiet question.

The tall wizard straightened up – looking guilty about overlooking the fact that there _really_ was no one to write me letters. His face was remorseful, and his words even more so. "I suppose so."

"I'll use a school owl if anything… or Fawkes!" I added in a sore attempt to show I held no hard feelings. He was just too good to me, to be treated in my usual unintentionally cold attitude. He was the only good left. He was the only pure and quintessential human I felt I could talk to.

He looked off into the distance with a bemused look then chuckled. "Imagine that… A phoenix sending a letter."

He joined me at my side once more, taking my arm.

"Pity if he decided to burst into flames mid-flight," I mumbled to him.

Dumbledore laughed, but the sounds were engulfed in the sudden squeezing and complete quiet of us apparating home.

* * *

After that, it felt like a matter of hours before I stood the afternoon light of my room, on the day school was to start.

_Well, my old room._

I stared at my reflection with a mounting sense of unease. I was clad in pressed black robes, and for the first time in a long while, the pinch of new shoes set off tingles in my feet.

My familiar deep brown hair fell into in tangled waves past my shoulders. My face - a tense expression firmly in place, with anxious eyes, a closed, tight mouth and dark circles from a horrible sleep. It was all _in place_… but I felt _out of place_.

I turned slowly around the room to see if I'd missed anything, the soft stirring of the folds of my robes unnerved me. The weight of the picture and my wand in my pocket. A large, new trunk filled with my belongings – my clothes and books – sat near the doorway ready to be brought down. It was all there. The remnants of my life packed away carefully.

The bed was empty; no sheets in disarray, they were crisp. The dressers clear of any clutter. The bathroom almost sterile with how empty it was.

It was exactly how it was before.

_Before I showed up._

Today was the day I left. Not permanently, thought I was leaving this room, and I was going to have a complete, irrevocable change in my life once more. It was becoming quite normal for me to have my life flipped over and shaken like a snow globe. Except I felt like the stupid, helpless snowman, and the snowflakes were my old ideas on how things should be. They were completely scattered, constantly moving and so intensely different from one another. I felt like they would never settle again.

I took one last look at the girl in the mirror, her expression unreadable, then walked out of the sunny room.

* * *

The light was wrung from the grounds and the halls of Hogwarts faster than I had expected. I should have expected it, though.

My day was not spent in bed with a book as usual, or taking in the lush grounds. No - it was spent meeting staff. For the most part, they were much more pleasant than Filch. But that isn't exactly hard to top and each of them was introduced graciously by Dumbledore, his calming hand on my shoulder with each new encounter.

The faces, the expressions, the stone walls swirled around me all day. Today was so blindingly fresh it was like the flesh of a split grapefruit- tantalizing yet bitter. Things were changing again - new people were about to throw themselves in my lives, or rather, I was being thrown into theirs.

_Professor McGonagall _– her beady, yet vastly intelligent eyes drinking in my solemn face. I thanked her for the sweets and she had nodded quickly. She seemed strict, but in a just sort of way. I took a liking to her almost immediately, because she was just so swift.

_Professor Flitwick _– a tiny wisp of a man, but power seeped from his pores. He had reached up to shake my hand, beaming all the while. "So glad to have you here, Miss Hanely!"

_Professor Slughorn _– Round, coiffed with a vigorous way of talk that mirrored his obsessive attitude. He was so oddly enthusiastic about me. I could feel his questions about my life, about my family, about me, bubbling to the surface, before Dumbledore guided me away.

_Professor Kettleburn_, a man who looked even more beat up and scarred than I did – seemed to be terribly excited. He went on about how "finally someone loves the beasts as much as I do!" I threw Dumbledore a dark look after that conversation. He shrugged, wearing a wide, innocent grin. _Smooth, sir._ He had obviously talked to him about my love for magical creatures.

There were other teachers, but they had nodded vaguely at me, as if I were an oddity that should be left quite alone. That didn't bother me at all. Less people to have awkward small talk with, the better.

Though the last teacher I met, seemed to have the most interest in my education. _Professor Dunlap – Defence Against the Dark Arts._ "Now," he'd told me with a serious expression. "Dumbledore has told me that you're quite advanced in my subject, considering your… Ummm…" I felt my gaze go stony as he trailed off, a wave of memories engulfing me and he faltered even more. "Your former work… Well anyways, we'll go through the classes as per usual and we'll see how it goes. Okay?" He smiled brightly.

I nodded blankly at him. What else was there to do?

Dumbledore seemed apprehensive beside me, as he bade farewell to the teachers and we walked through the quiet corridor. He checked the time, then slowly turned his gaze on to me. He put both hands on my shoulders; the steady grip could be felt through my robes. His stare was direct and I peered unflinchingly back into the concerned spheres of blue that were locked on to my own cerulean eyes.

"They should be arriving soon. So you can wait for Hagrid and the first years with Professor McGonagall near the Lake entrance. The one that leads to the Great Hall doors. I'll be there when you come in – at the Head Table, alright?"

I smirked at his loving attitude, ignoring the slight pang it gave me, and a small flash of relief at my good humour crossed his features. "I'll be okay, as long as you stop making me so nervous."

He smiled slightly, his face glowing with the torchlight that surrounded us. I raised my hand to squeeze his on my shoulder then took off, with small measured steps to where the soaking first years would arrive.

Apparently they had to come by boat – _something I could avoid._

I allowed myself a small victory smile.

I stopped, realized I was at the right place, then looked around me. Nothing but stone walls, the immense marble staircase and whispering flighty portraits.

_No Professor McGonagall._

I leaned against the wall, shivering slightly at its coolness. I stared at my shoes – shinier than any other pair I owned.

"Who – " a voice, quick as a whip, rang out from somewhere before me – "are you?"

My head snapped up, causing my carefully tucked locks to fall across my cheeks.

A very thin boy, with long, greasy dark hair stood a few feet before me. He had a hooked nose, which only appeared larger because of the lank strands that fell into his face. His robes were slightly battered and he was very tense - as if he were ready to fight at any moment. His tie, that was tucked neatly into his black robes, was a serpentine green. His gaze was dark and uncertain when I met it.

I cocked an eyebrow, earning a slightly disgruntled look. "Rowan Hanely. You are?"

He took a tentative step towards me. I noticed his body seemed to turn inwardly – defensive. My old habits were kicking in – I was reading people without even noticing it. "Snape. My name is Severus Snape." His voice was soft now, as if he were saying sorry for being so brusque earlier.

I stuck out my hand, refusing to leave my post at the wall.

_He was going to come to me._

Yet, despite my rather stubborn action, or should I say, inaction, my hand, with its pale ghostly colouring, peeking out of my robes for a handshake was like a white flag – surrender.

He looked at my hand for a moment, and then took a few quick steps before taking it into his.

I shook it slowly. "Nice to meet you."

"I've never seen you before," he said bluntly. His onyx eyes now roamed my face, as if looking for some familiarity.

I let go of his hand and tucked it into the pocket, which held my wand. I fingered it softly, judging how quickly I could pull it out. _Always at the ready aren't you?_ I thought darkly to myself. "Evidently because I'm new here."

He didn't seem to be offended by my flat answer, but his mouth was set in a curling sort of way. "So it would seem." He looked around him, realizing where we stood. "Are you to be sorted with the first years?"

I nodded slowly, awaiting his reaction.

He let it sink in, and then sneered. "How humiliating. Well it will make up for it if you're placed in Slytherin. We've – "

"Snape!" a sharp voice called.

We both turned to see Professor McGonagall hurrying down the staircase with her black hair tied severely back, wearing a set of tartan robes which billowed slightly as she came to stand beside Snape and I.

"You ought to be in the Great Hall with your house by now," she ushered him away with a motion of her hand. "Go on! You'll have missed your classmates over the summer."

Snape didn't even hesitate. "See you," he muttered, before disappearing to find his way to the Hall.

I raised my eyebrows with respect, glancing at the Professor. She was, apparently, a slightly feared teacher.

She nodded to me, and looked as if she was about to say something before a sudden influx of young children, all dressed in dark robes came tumbling down the hall. Their sleeves were dripping wet, no doubt from rowing across the lake and they chattered excitedly in high voices. They pointed at the portraits who showed off a little by talking loudly to one another, or looking especially menacing. I couldn't blame these newcomers. Hogwarts was literally – awesome.

An immense frame appeared from behind them, his wild beard barely concealing his good-natured, yet exasperated smile. I waved at him hesitantly. Hagrid spotted me and grinned widely, giving me a grand wink.

"Now!" the professor beside me snapped. The children hushed immediately and even _I_ turned in rapt attention. "We'll all be going into the Great Hall to be sorted. You will be put into one of four different houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Slytherin. This house will become your family are here at Hogwarts, and they will always be there for you." She seemed almost emotional for a moment, then returned to her stern self. "Come along now, quietly." She turned away, walking quickly down the long corridor. She didn't even look back to see if they were following her - she knew they would.

The children looking thoroughly scared, yet excited, traipsed after her. I hung back, watching them all give me funny looks, until I joined Hagrid behind the long procession of eager young wizards.

He smiled down at me, looking completely sentimental. I rolled my eyes as he placed a giant, shaking hand on my back. None the less, it felt good to have him there.

We now stood before the two great doors of the Hall. The hum of hundreds of people inside the room reached our ears. The children squirmed or shifted their weight from foot to foot.

I simply stared ahead. My heart clenched, and then unclenched, repeatedly. I tried the breathing techniques I had been taught regularly to instill calm.

_In and out._

_Through the nose, out the mouth._

_In and out._

Still, the doors remained shut.

_Aw, screw it_, I thought sullenly. I returned to breathing quick, uncontrolled breaths from there on out.

I saw Professor McGonagall give Hagrid a confused look from where she stood, holding a long list. I peered up at him – he looked slightly uncomfortable. I turned back to the professor only to see her squeezing through the crowd of quiet children to stand before Hagrid and I.

She looked as though she could intimidate someone as big as Hagrid.

I saw his gaze drop to the floor. I restrained a smirk. My assumption was correct. _Well he is a big softie… So it does make sense. _

"Aren't you going to join the Head Table now, Rubeus?" McGonagall asked calmly.

He cleared his throat, and then kneaded his hands. "Well, I was wonderin' if I could, jus' walk with Rowan here until she gets sorted. Then I'll head up to the table. If that's alright, of course."

_He would do that for me?_ I thought as I stared at McGonagall, waiting for her answer.

McGonagall looked slightly surprised, and pressed her thin lips together thoughtfully. "Yes. Yes I suppose that's fine."

Hagrid beamed as the professor went back to her place at the front of the group of nervous boys and girls.

The doors were still closed.

My jaw worked with something I could only describe as anxiousness.

"It's okay, Rowan. It's okay," I heard Hagrid mumble.

Just then, the colossal, carved wooden doors opened, causing an eruption of gasps among the first years, and a chorus of laughter, chatter and cheers from inside.

All I felt was Hagrid's reassuring hand upon my shoulders.

All I saw, upon my first few steps into the Great Hall of Hogwarts – eyes all upon me – was the bewitched sky of the thousands of stars above us.

One, painfully familiar thought popped up without warning.

_The stars look so beautiful tonight._

But instead of my sister's vacant eyes, looking into mine, I had the encouraging smile of Hagrid. He gently squeezed my shoulders, with his immense hand.

_How different the words felt now. How different things were._

* * *

**Sort of a laggy chapter, I do apologize. But I feel as though a few parting notes needed to be made before Rowan encounters the Marauders... Or rather, before the Marauders encounter her. :)**

**Thank you for reading! I really do appreciate you guys reading my story... It means alot. Oh, and feel free to give me your opinion, I'm always happy to hear it! **


	7. Chapter 7

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Seven - **

**- Sirius Black - **

* * *

I glanced around me at our packed Gryffindor table. Tonight, the stars from the night sky illuminated the stone room with help from the candles that floated idly above us. The constellations were immobile, and they contrasted deeply with the quick flickering of shooting stars against the dark sky. The September night was cool, yet here in the Great Hall, a certain warmth had been cultivated. A warmth that could be personified in the rich golds of our plates, and in the heavy banners which detailed the Hogwarts crest that hung high above us.

James, my absolute best mate, sat beside me: his black hair in its usual nightmarish disarray and his glasses glinted playfully as he 'talked' (he could call it talking, but we all knew it was never-ending bickering fuelled by some mad infatuation) with his precious Lily Pad, who sat across from us.

She sat with her best friend, and dorm mate, Alice, who looked as if she were about to burst into manic laughter at James' pitiful rebuttals. Her short, pixie-like hair was quivering with her concealed laughter.

Remus… Well, he looked too damn exhausted to be bothered with Prongs' and Lily's _'riveting discussion'_. His light brown hair was flopping into his tired eyes, where dark circles had collected beneath them. The full moon was just a couple of nights ago… He had snoozed most of the trip here, despite his sad attempts to stay awake.

He raised an eyebrow half-heartedly at my inspection. He seemed quite content to sit between James and Peter, actually. Neither of those two would cause him to participate in the exhausting activity of talking. Well… I smirked, James might, but not now, Lily was noticing his existence. And Peter? I spared a glance at my chubby friend who stared dolefully at his plate.

_Yeah mate, I'm hungry too_, I thought dully. He sighed sadly, as if answering my concealed thoughts, and his little morose display fluffed out his mousy hair.

I turned away and stretched languidly, leaning back in my seat. My eyes flickered around the immense room, watching the flurried activity of so many students getting back together over the summer.

A pair of busty Ravenclaw girls giggled at me. I smiled, and provided them with a roguish wink. They erupted into more nervous giggles, and their straight blonde hair concealed their blushing cheeks, as they bent their heads to whisper excitedly to one another.

_Prospects, so many prospects._

Again, the first day of a new year brought that incredible sense of disbelief and wonder about how the hell things had turned out for me.

I, Sirius Black, had been sorted into Gryffindor. Possibly the most notorious house for spouting out 'blood traitors' – wizarding education intact.

Any other respectable Black would have promptly killed themselves should they have been deemed a Gryffindor by the Sorting Hat. Preferably with a noose. _Oh!_ And in the dormitories so they could scar their little _'Gryffindor buddies' _for life. Also, if they killed themselves properly, an elegant suicide note with the family crest would be provided with their corpse. Most likely addressed to their 'Dear good, sweet, pureblood mother for whom they are not worthy…'

Maybe it was because I loved myself to a ridiculous extent, or maybe it was because the whole… Black mentality had skipped me. Whatever was rooted in out family, it just never entered 'my thick Gryffindor head' as my mother said so fondly. Muggles were fine to me, just a bit funny. Muggle-borns were the same as us. I never thought I was destined to be in Slytherin… Like so many generations before me.

… I suppose I wasn't if I thought that way.

Here I was, scarlet and gold tie firmly in place, with the best friends I could ask for. Friends I wondered at having because of our serious differences.

Prongs had parents who were so sweet that I couldn't resist practically living at their house every summer.

Moony, well he's a werewolf. A wicked bright one at that. He didn't deserve what he got – enough said.

Wormtail, the outcast, but he was our outcast.

And myself – Padfoot – pureblood heir extraordinaire, a proud Gryffindor.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. The chatter and hum of the Great Hall was increasing and I turned to see the giant doors being opened by a very stern looking McGonagall.

I jumped up.

"ICKLE FIRSTIES!" I yelped happily.

A chorus of laughter erupted and James' booming guffaw rang the loudest. I grinned at him and he turned to stare menacingly at the small clusters of tiny black-robed eleven year olds that had started to pour into the Hall. Poor things – they had to be coaxed in by McGonagall.

The professor gave James a nasty look as a small first year boy looked positively terrified at James' mocking dark look.

I felt a familiar scowl.

_Hmm… Who could possess such a unique scolding look?_

I sat down, facing the two girls across from me. I winked at Lily Evans who glared at me. Her red hair increasing the angry stare's fearsome qualities. Her emerald eyes blazed.  
Alice was usually a better sport, but she too gave me a dirty look.

"Come off it," I said playfully. "What else could you expect from us?"

I was completely delighted when her scowl turned on James. He gave her a sidelong puppy dog look.

"From you Sirius? I expect nothing. But I expected James to _respect his Prefect duties_."

Peter, Remus and I snorted at the same time, and turned our attention back to the procession.

Remus had been a shoe-in for Prefect, but because he got sick so much, the position wasn't practical. So our dear Jamsie got the job… Much to the dismay of Lily.

It was sixth year. The argument had run its course.

I heard James splutter pitifully under the redhead's accusation. Remus shot me an eyeroll and Peter glanced at his barren plate once more. As if, in the two seconds he wasn't watching it, the food had appeared.

I had expected the long line of first years to end with Filch herding in the last straggler. I think we all expected it. I mean, if Hogwarts was about anything, it was about tradition.

I glanced towards the Head Table. There was McGonagall, holding the scruffy hat as per usual. All the teachers in place, smiling encouragingly at the youngsters. One new face for the accursed Defence Against the Dark Arts slot… but…

_Whoa – wait._

_Hagrid wasn't there._

Sure he wasn't a prof, but the gamekeeper was always sitting up there by now, making the new kids mutter about his size and wild looks.

I turned my gaze back to the doors.

_There he was._

Couldn't miss him, his immense form dwarfed everyone in the place. But why was he there… behind the procession?

I tuned into the incoherent loud buzzing of voices, which had increased all around me. Some were craning their necks, others were muttering to their neighbors.

"What's going on…" I heard James say quietly, mostly to himself.

General Hogwarts consensus at the moment: _what the hell?_

I leaned back and then I realized that it wasn't Hagrid's late entrance that had the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins peering at the end of the long group of first years with avid interest.

_It was a girl._

A girl hidden from view by the gamekeeper's massive form. Not just any girl either. She wasn't a first-year. She was tiny, that's for sure, but she looked… older. Her features gave her away. She had a face that possessed a certain kind of experience. As if she had been here in this world, long enough to know that it wasn't always pretty. Despite her petite build, she definitely had a grown up face.

She had high cheekbones, which only extenuated her hard jaw line. Her head was first raised to stare at the bewitched ceiling, then it was raised to avoid catching the eyes of hundreds of over-zealous students. From what I could see she was… pale. She quietly spoke to Hagrid, who's hand, resting on her back, took up the width of her whole body. She had long, thick and shiny hair that reminded me of rich dark chocolate, as it rippled across the front of her robes and fell down her back in tangled waves.

I saw as she neared closer, that her face wasn't as perfect as it looked to be from afar. Soft white scars melted in with the cool alabaster of her face, pink ones ran across her cheeks, an angry cut criss-crossed her upper jaw and a jagged gash made its way across her plush mouth.

Her face was impassive, extraordinarily blank. I felt, deep down within me, as if she had made herself this perfect, yet scathed blank slate. I felt my insides squeeze with curiosity, and vaguely, I wondered how anyone could watch her, and not be interested in her striking appearance and her obtuse expression.

I turned, to exchange a confused glace with someone. I wanted to know if I was the only one who had been so thoroughly entranced with the idea of this girl. It was as though she were just that – an idea. But everyone was watching the tiny young woman.

They watched as the quiet, sombre mystery of a girl awaited her turn to be sorted with a bunch of children no doubt younger than her.

I felt a spasm of amusement. _Poor girl. Must be hell to be sorted as a near adult._

I watched, as her gaze descended from the heavens and it scanned the Hall. Piercing bright blue eyes passed over us with fleeting interest. Or what appeared to be fleeting interest.

I squirmed under that intense gaze.

The icy blue orbs flickered to the Slytherin table and I saw some of the guys appraise her thoughtfully.

_Oh, I definitely wasn't alone in my interest for the girl._

I frowned.

My frown grew even more pronounced when Severus Snape nodded to her, his greasy hair tumbling into his black eyes.

I whipped around involuntarily to see her reaction.

The girl nodded back to him, her waves shining in the light with her slight head bob, and she smirked slightly. Oddly, it held no mischief. I felt something like revulsion at the idea that her and Severus were acquainted, where I had no freaking clue who she was.

A ripple of whispers erupted again, and half the Slytherin table seemed to round on Snape with a hushed question. He would enjoy that, the greasy git getting attention at the expense of this new girl.

I turned slowly to my mates. They were all wide eyed and I could see Lily still staring thoughtfully at the girl.

James looked at each of us, glasses glinting and his mouth slightly ajar. "Did you just see what I just saw?"

I absently registered the announcement of names as the sorting began. People clapped, and I slapped my hands together rather robotically, my eyes darting regularly to the girl.

I shook my head in disbelief at my three friends. "No way Snivellus got to the new girl on the train before we did." I threw a disgusted glance towards the self-professed 'pure table'. "_Yeesh_. Imagine having a delightful social with _them_ on your first day?"

James chuckled, and Peter joined in.

I looked to Remus.

He was musing of course, thinker that he was. He watched the girl, with a sort of muted fascination. "I don't think she was on the train. I mean look at the way her and Hagrid – "

A soft gasp, yet completely audible in its explosive realization, erupted from across from us. We each turned, eyebrows raised.

Lily looked positively enthralled. "I know her!" Her eyes were flashing with the newfound knowledge and her hair trembled with her excited movements.

I couldn't help myself. Really, I just couldn't. I leaned forward eagerly towards the girls. "What?"

James was leaning forward too. He on the other hand, did not have the same thought process as myself…

Remus watched him, blue eyes twinkling because James' cheeks had suddenly went a very pink colour along with his excited demeanour.

"Was it at Muggle summer camp? I heard those are great!" James got a faraway look. "I've always wanted to go to one…"

I barked out a laugh, and it was all too much for poor tired Remus. He could barely conceal the shaking laughter that looked as though it would finish him off. Thank Merlin drinks weren't served yet, he would have probably choked.

Lily scowled at a very embarrassed looking James. "No, it wasn't at Muggle summer camp, you idiot. It was at Flourish and Blotts."

The amount of time it took for my face to compose itself into a perfect deadpan was nearly incalculable. I faked a shuddering yawn loudly, using my hand to stifle the theatrical display of boredom.

Her scowl only deepened.

My acting skills did nothing to ease Remus' deadly laughing fit, and several students from other houses had switched their gazes from the new girl to us.

"Booooooooring," I muttered. I turned away, and continued to watch the tiny brunette who was almost unmoving as she waited for her name.

"Eichright…" McGonagall prounounced clearly. I watched drearily as a spindly blonde walked up to the stool.

"She was with Dumbledore… She helped me get a book…" Lily trailed off from behind me.

I swivelled in my seat, eyes wide. "Dumbledore eh? Now I'm awake!"

"Padfoot here is absolutely enamoured with our headmaster… Do excuse him," drawled James.

Lily granted him a smile. I'm sure he had a heart attack right then and there, but I failed on my duty as his best friend to check to see if he had dropped dead.

I rolled my eyes instead. I was such a good friend to him, I swear. "Cmon," I asked Lily in an annoyed voice, "what was she doing with him?"

Lily turned to me, her voice as snappish as my own. "Oh what do I know about this girl's person business? Shut up and watch the sorting, Black."

"Yes," Remus' soft voice interjected, having fully recovered from his draining fit of the giggles, "we all want to know which house this girl is going to be in."

Alice nodded in agreement, her light brown eyes still trained on the sorting.

For once, the girls and the Marauders agreed on something.

We each turned to watch her.

"Hancer, Doris…"

I cocked an eyebrow at the girl.

Nope. Nothing. She didn't move.

_She didn't look like a Doris anyway…_

The cheers commenced over at the Hufflepuff table as the chubby girl named Doris went to sit with them.

"Hanely, Rowan…"

I saw Hagrid, begin almost blubbering as he let his iron grip on her go. The girl, the one we had all been watching, smiled slightly at him, and touched his arm softly with her tiny white hand.

So her name was Rowan… _Much more fitting._

She took a few steps forward. I noticed how she moved so quietly, so swiftly. Her robes fit her very nicely. I could see her tiny shape, the muscles in her arms and her small breasts.

I gulped.

Her robes billowed slightly as she moved towards the stool.

She sat, seemingly unaware of the whispers and eyes all upon her, as she faced the entire student body.

I had to admire her for not even flinching when people 'subtly' pointed at her as if she were a freak on exhibition. They gawked at her, but her chin was raised in some form of defiance. Her scars were prominent in the candlelight… and she didn't look like she gave a damn what they thought.

I felt my mouth pulling into a smile. _What a fearless little lioness._ Perhaps she wasn't a Slytherin chum after all.

McGonagall gave her what looked to be an understanding nod, and the girl nodded back. The moody Sorting Hat was placed on her tiny head.

The occupants of the Head Table seemed very nervous. Especially Dumbledore. Well, he didn't seem nervous, so much as… interested. They were just as curious as the students, and they tensed as nothing was immediately said.

Her delicate face was frowning. No doubt in a telepathic discussion with the deliberating Hat.

I remembered that moment with the Hat myself.

The Hat told me I was much too foolhardy for Slytherin. Much to its amusement, I agreed heartily.

_"A Black who secretly wants to be in Gryffindor?_" it had whispered in my nervous mind.

_"How interesting."_

And that was that. Here I was in Gryffindor.

All's well that end's well, I guess.

Now, the Hat was moving slowly on her head.

_"Fascinating…" _it said loudly.

"No shit," I muttered under my breath.

_"You'll have to be in…"_

The Great Hall braced itself.

I wondered if they all wanted her in their houses so they could question her, figure her out and then forget her.

I had a sinking feeling that she was not easily forgotten, nor was she a simple puzzle to solve.

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

Our table began to shout and cheer. I stood and clapped hard with the rest of them. The girl smirked when McGonagall gently pulled the Hat off her head. She walked towards our ridiculously excited table.

She seemed to stop short as she realized… she had no idea where to sit.

Her mouth opened slightly, and her eyes flickered up and down the packed table.

I watched her dumbly before a resounding greeting came from somewhere near me.

"HEY!" I heard Lily call. I noticed she was standing too.

The girl turned toward us, that endearing confused look still in place. Then she saw Lily's smiling face and that signature fiery red hair, and recognition registered in her features.

_So she did know her._

I sat down and saw Lily patting the empty seat beside her and waving her over.

James nudged me, and I didn't bother to spare him a glance as I watched the girl's long hair flutter as she walked over.

"Looks as though we'll be able to see the newbie up close and personal…" His voice was amused, even in its low tone in my ear.

"You bet…" I muttered absently.

Remus was watching her with that cool curious look of his, and Peter stared bluntly as she came to stand across from us.

_Wow, she really was tiny_. Despite her robes fitting her, it was almost funny how small she was.

With an indescribable swiftness for her tiny form, she slid into a seat beside Lily and Alice.

Directly across from me in fact.

I let my eyes trail across her face for the millionth time. Her scars were even more evident up close, as were the intense colour of her wide eyes. She looked so tired, yet alert. Nothing escaped her, it would seem. Her tiny, piano fingers were gently resting on the table near her plate, and her posture was ram straight. I watched as she pushed her heavy curtain of hair back, and revealed the soft slope of her shoulders.

Lily smiled at her and the girl gave a very calm, wan smile back.

_So collected._

It was impossible to be that collected, I was sure.

"It's Rowan right?" I heard myself blurt out.

She turned her cerulean eyes on me for the first time that night. She scrutinized my face. It was to say the least – irksome.

_Piercing. _How many times could I say it. Her eyes were so piercing.

I stared back at her, not even letting myself think I could look away. It was a match, and me? Losing? Whether it be a staring contest with a mesmerizing, odd young girl or a Quiddich match – I wouldn't dare lose.

I could hear everyone around us quiet to listen in.

"Yes," she answered finally. "My name is Rowan Hanely."

I gave her a wide grin, but did not release my stare. "Lovely. Welcome to Gryffindor. Home of the brave and – "

"Devilishly handsome," James cut in, winking at the girl.

_Rowan, not 'the girl'_, I corrected myself.

A few laughs broke out along with Lily's snort of laughter.

My gaze flickered, then came back to watch Rowan's reaction. My smile grew when we were rewarded with a smirk.

"That said dashingly handsome man," I jutted a thumb towards James' lanky frame, and gave him a wry grin, " is my best mate, James Potter."

I saw as he ran a hand through his hair. Oh, him and his bloody hair with first impressions.

I gave him a knowing look, then opened my mouth to speak, but Remus was leaning across the table, extending a hand to her.

_Wow, very social for a tired Remus._

I couldn't help but be a little proud of him, as he looked fondly at her, and smiled a bit.

She took his offered hand, locking eyes with Moony and giving his hand a strong shake. She was no weakling, and I saw his small ripple of shock when he felt her firm grip.

"I'm Remus Lupin…" he greeted her calmly.

"Nice to meet you, Remus," Rowan answered back quietly. I realized how soft, and rough her voice was. It was nice to listen to.

Her smirk deepened at his charming smile, and that nasty cut of hers stretched as though it would break and blood would come pouring from her pretty mouth.

I saw Alice visibly wince at this. Rowan's mouth could split at any moment. She didn't seem to care, and oddly… None of the Marauders did either. Especially myself.

"I'm Peter Pettigrew," Wormtail piped up and she nodded politely towards him.

_Again, collected as hell._

She was once again turned towards me, one eyebrow cocked, watching me in earnest, daring me to introduce myself, asking me without words, for my name.

Well, maybe not that much. But she stared at me with that worn, enquiring expression. With that one eyebrow cocked, I could see a bunch of scars across her temple that weren't visible before.

I crossed my arms. "I am Sirius Black and we – " I gestured to my three friends, then myself, " are the Marauders."

I waited for her to smile, or ask about our name.

She just blinked and nodded slowly.

_Effect ruined._

Lily laughed at her non-reaction. "Otherwise known as… the Dunderheads."

Rowan chuckled and turned to the two girls beside her. "May I ask who you two are? I remember you from the bookstore, but I never got your name."

I think that was the most she said all night. I could feel an echo of my surprise within the three friends that sat beside me. So, yes, I wasn't daft, she wasn't exactly talkative…

Lily smiled, obviously happy that she had spoken more than monosyllables to her. Her smiled was quite sweet, and James was probably about to faint.

_Why oh why was Lily like this with everyone but us? _

"I'm Lily Evans," she said in a calm voice.

Alice poked in with a friendly grin. "I'm Alice Dorty."

"Though she would prefer it to be Alice Longbottom…" I heard Remus stage-whisper to Rowan.

Rowan cocked her head to the side, allowing her blank face to become confused. Her tiny nose wrinkled in thought. Alice of course, turned as red as a brick and attempted to throw a kick under the table at my poor mate.

I laughed at both their interaction and Rowan's confused expression. It seemed so alien on her. I saw her shoot me an even more bewildered look at my laughter. "Frank Longbottom – a boy in Hufflepuff she positively adores," I explained to her. I rolled my eyes.

Her lashes fluttered, and her mouth twitched – no doubt attempting to suppress her own eye roll.

_I liked her already._

Lily had turned to the girl again. "We're all in sixth year – "

"I am too," Rowan said quickly.

Lily's bright green eyes widened. "Seriously? Where did you do all your studies?"

Suddenly, without warning the somewhat upbeat expression the tiny girl's face had worn, shut off. She seemed as though she could be compared to a brick wall.

I watched her carefully, trying to comprehend the sudden change.

"I was home-schooled," she said simply. She looked down at her empty plate, hands folded tightly in her lap. The perfect impression of an impenatrable fortress.

Lily, who wasn't thick, refused to press on.

None of us did either. I mean, the girl was brave enough to come here in her sixth year. I had a feeling she would have enough people prying.

I wouldn't pry. _For now, anyways..._

The rest of the evening she talked quietly with us through the feast. Between forkfuls of delicious food, I watched her. She ate very little. Healthy stuff. She spoke mostly about the classes or gently put in a word about whatever anyone was talking about.

She drank a lot of pumpkin juice I noted, and she seemed to be thinking. Always thinking.

Did she ever stop thinking? Did she ever lose that thoughtful expression? That guarded, tense position?

I wondered if she knew I watched her.

I wondered if my mind was warning me - by watching her.

I decided the interest would go away as it did with most girls, but I knew she wouldn't.

Of course, she was to share a dorm with Lily and Alice. I guess Dumbledore figured it would be ideal to have her share a living space with a Prefect.

That night, as she entered the Gryffindor tower, and she smiled a little to herself at the homey common room, then climbed up the stone steps to the girl's dorms, I felt my interest turn into apprehension.

Suddenly, I didn't know if I should be cautious with her, or simply keep a close eye on her. She was mercurial. I knew nothing of where she was from.

Was she a threat?

Or was she someone I could wash into the back round when I deemed fit?

She turned on the steps and shot me another one of those piercing looks, before disappearing from view.

One thing I knew for certain up until then, Rowan Hanely was a twisted beauty.

* * *

**Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading, and I'm open to your opinions! I also have to give credit, where credit is due. That lovely line - "Effect ruined" - is something my very best friend says often. I thought it was perfect here to describe the utter fail on Sirius' part. This said, hilarious friend has an account here on FanFiction, you should check it out if you like some good writing: Atoms and Elements. Her style is very different from mine, but I find her work really refreshing and it gets your mind going. Oh well, thanks again! Hope you are having a nice holiday!**


	8. Chapter 8

**The Resolution**  
**- Chapter Eight - **

**- Rowan Hanely -**

* * *

I always woke with the sun. As if deep inside me, despite my resistance, the internal alarm clock humans had long ago abandoned with the discovery of fire and the beauty of starlight – was active. Viciously so.

Sure. Sometimes I'd wake at dawn then promptly fall asleep hours later as soon as I got the chance to lay my head on anything that remotely resembled a pillow… but I never failed to catch the first rays of sunlight as they skittered across this side of the world.

Maybe it was my family that instilled this: the habit that I couldn't shake no matter where I was. Whether it be a tent, a headmaster's guestroom or even… The Gryffindor girls' dormitories.

Which is why I found myself to be very confused as to why I was running to reach my first class on time. It was literally my first class. My first class of this year. My first class at Hogwarts. My first class at any scholarly establishment actually…

I had never viewed Dad's teachings as 'classes'. They were mostly impromptu knowledgeable lessons, which I adored. Or the studious observation of the things he did. I didn't learn how to cast a nasty jinx from a book or a certified teacher. I learned it in the field; with Willow by my side, laughing and blundering along with me…

I shook my head vigorously, pushing my book bag more securely on my shoulder. No need for nostalgia now. My mind skirted away from those memories into the all-pressing present.

_How the hell did I let myself run late?_

How did I let myself run foolishly to a class I couldn't be late for, based on pride – it was my first bloody class! – And the fact that I was severely unskilled in it.

_Potions._

Something I'd dabbled in, at most.

I descended the chipped stone stairs in a quick flash, grimacing at the thought of working with careful precision over some sweltering hot cauldron. I hopped over several steps at a time, feeling very satisfied with the fact I could cover quite a bit of ground with each leap.

Being a former Dark Wizard Hunter had its advantages, I mulled.

Speed.

Balance.

A healthy fear of tumbling to the ground and smashing your head open.

Not like you could fall flat on your face chasing some low life right?

But that was just it… I wasn't a Hunter anymore was I? I wasn't chasing some scum. I was a student running to class to skive off an imminent detention.

_My, my things do change don't they…_

The dampness of the dungeons was beginning to seep in, and I shivered slightly. My nose wrinkled as I took in the mouldy scent that clung to the place. I slowed to a walk, and shifted my bag once more. It contained my heavy Potions reference book, parchment, some quills, my shiny new ink well and of course, the schedule I had snatched from Professor McGonagall with a quick 'thank you!' before I tore out of the empty Great Hall, shoving toast into my mouth.

She had looked surprised – dark eyebrows shooting up to meet the brim of her witch's hat. Surprised was putting it mildly… but she seemed a little proud too. I did learn that she was Gryffindor's Head of House… Maybe she was happy to see a new little Gryffindor in action… I grimaced. Well she'll be none too proud to see that 'the Hanely girl' was late on her first day…

I quickened my walk so I could skirt into the open classroom door that was down the hall sooner. It was almost… foreboding and my mind flittered elsewhere again.

_What had gotten me so behind?_

_The long shower?_

_The creeping around my room to not wake Lily and Alice?_

_The lingering thoughts about the group of rowdy Gryffindor boys I had met last night?_

_Or meeting Dumbledore in an abandoned corridor while taking a stroll?_

_Or maybe it was the stroll itself…_

I sighed and flicked my long unruly ponytail in annoyance.

This was turning into some morning.

When I had met Dumbledore he had been so happy to see me. His robes were a deep astonishing yellow and his smile formed almost immediately as soon as I came into view. He was happy to have me sorted into Gryffindor. He was happy to tell me my colour-coded scarlet and gold clothes would be here in no time. He was happy. Why I had to go and ruin it with my issues – I did not know.

I let my eyes flicker shut as I remembered how I had grabbed his arm as he turned to leave, the soft material of his robes tickling my skin. How his eyes filled with pure incomprehension at my desperation – blue and glinting in the morning sunshine, which filtered through the stained glass window, shedding shapes and colours upon his wrinkled wise face. I felt myself harden and release my firm hold on his forearm.

I tried to appear indifferent, I really did.

_"Sir… You didn't happen to hear anything from the Ministry about my parents did you? About the assailants?"_

I had asked in that damn pleading voice - so low and reedy.

_Pleading?_ At that thought I felt myself stomp closer to the Potions room instead of my usual measured steps.

_"No," he had answered sadly, "but I will tell you if they do, Rowan. I promise you."_

Then he watched me nod quickly and run off to pick up my schedule. I heard his sigh as I made my way to the Great Hall.

No wonder I was late. I was too busy tormenting myself with the past. It's a time-consuming hobby, you know – being stuck in the past.

They had taken my family… My best friend.

No way in hell they were going to overtake my reformed life. No way they were going to make me late for Potions.

I rushed into the open door of the class with a slight huff. A few strands of hair had fallen into my face and I swatted them away impatiently.

The classroom was as dark and damp as the hall that preceded it. Ingredients of a questionable nature were lined along the windowless walls and torches flickered, immersing the place in some form of light. The chattering of the class was at a soft, respectful hum and the desks were places in pairs – a cauldron per coupling. I let my eyes pass over the students quickly, so I wouldn't have to deal with some awkward eye contact.

Some were Gryffindors, like myself, a trait I was beginning to seriously warm to, even if overnight. Others had silver and deep green ties and an evident expression of entitlement: Slytherins.

I noted how the two houses didn't really… mix. Gryffindors sat with Gryffindors and vice versa. They talked and laughed with their friends in their own little groups.

_A bit of animosity?_

I watched, amused, as a Slytherin student threw a Gryffindor a nasty stare when the boy 'accidentally' whipped a wad of parchment in his direction.

_Oh yes… I think there was some animosity between houses…_

I tucked my stray locks behind my ear and made my way over to large desk that stood before a blank chalkboard. Professor Slughorn sat, his balding head bent over an attendance sheet. Surrounding him at his desk were various notes, picture frames and a jar of what looked to be…crystallized pineapple?

I frowned, and watched with a vague interest as his quill paused over the name 'Hanely, Rowan.'

He raised his head and scanned the room before him, with a confused air – managing to completely ignore my presence.

"I'm here."

He jumped, causing titters to erupt amongst the students, and then he looked to where I stood directly next to him. He rubbed his brow and gave a shaky laugh.

"Goodness Miss Hanely, I hadn't heard you come in…" He smiled up at me. "Very sneaky! Where did you learn that?"

_Years of training? Throwing people in Azkaban?_ I shrugged non-committally. "Habit, I guess." I answered instead of my jeering thoughts.

His watery eyes surveyed my face with keen interest. "Of course, of course… Well I'm very glad to have you in my class in any case."

I nodded. "Happy to be here, sir. Now I was wondering where – "

"You know," a deep, vibrant, voice burst out loudly from somewhere amongst the students, "it doesn't hurt to say 'good morning', Rowan."

I turned my head, hair tickling my cheek, as I surveyed the class. At the back, a group of very familiar faces had grouped together.

_My dorm mates and the Marauders._

Lily Evans and Alice Dorty were paired at one table, smiling at me: a fiery red head and a mousy brunette with a round face. They nodded as my gaze passed over them. I let my mouth tug into a soft smile.

Behind them, sat Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Remus gave me a calm salute - blue eyes crinkled with good humour, while Peter looked away from me shyly.

At the very back, in the left corner of the room were James Potter, him grinning wildly and tugging his fingers through that unruly black mane and the speaker – who could be mistaken for James' brother with his long black hair and handsome face full of mischief.

His grey eyes were still focused on my with that impossible inquisitiveness that they held all last night from the moment I sat down until I disappeared into my new dorm.

I cocked an eyebrow at the tall boy. "Good morning, Mister Black."

My voice was flat with a note of false pleasantness.

His eyes danced at my cool response and Remus chuckled quietly, giving me a regard of what looked to be, respect. James nudged his friend, his smile growing wider. I turned fractionally back to the Professor, before Sirius' voice interrupted my thoughts once again.

I fought off an imminent irritated sigh, and turned to him once more.

"There we go! That was a lovely greeting!" He praised me with enthusiasm. "Good morning m'lady! You can call me Sirius, I hope you know." I watched him learn towards the front, towards me, over his wooden desk. He flicked his hair out of his wide eyes and then gave me a grand wink. "_I_…or should I say _we_, are simply delighted for you to have finally graced us with your presence." He gestured to the class, and they laughed softly.

James nodded at me in a solemn fashion, as if confirming his closest friends words. Yet a ghost of a smile was taking over the lanky boy's features.

I saw Remus roll his eyes and give me an apologetic look.

So that's how Sirius wanted to play?

_Ridicule?_

I gave him a soft smile, acting as though I were the very picture of a shy newcomer. "Yes, Mister Black. The efforts of avoiding you proved too much. I decided I needed my Potions mark after all." I finished mildly.

My eyes bored into his and his face fell dramatically, much to my deep satisfaction.

Surprised chuckles rang out in the dungeon.

I spun around to meet Slughorn's amused gaze before Black came up with another witty remark. I felt a pang of annoyance at the lack of intervention by the professor…but I quickly buried it.

"So, I was going to ask if you had any set seating arrangement for me? Or will I be working on my own? I noticed everyone is partnered up, sir."

He smiled and turned to look at the flighty class. He suddenly seemed inspired. "You're right… Everyone is partnered up except my most talented student." I turned to inspect the class, looking in the direction his dark brown eyes were focused on. "Snape?' he called, "would you mind taking Miss Hanely here under your tutelage?"

I heard a soft, aggrieved voice echo through the dungeons. "No. So long as she does not hinder my progress, sir."

I remembered that voice… That last name…

I walked along the middle aisle, quickly to where I estimated the voice came from… the back… right side….

"No, I assure you she won't," I heard the portly professor reassure the unknown student from behind me.

I was nearly there when I heard an exasperated sound erupt from my left side. I was at the back, and there, James and Sirius were giving me twin looks of horror.

"Oh no!" James groaned.

Confused, I met his hazel eyes. Frowning – but he gave me no answer.

Sirius, beside him, closest to me, looked equally scandalized. He was leaning back on his chair and stared earnestly at me. "I would have switched with you… But James suffers separation anxiety when I'm gone for too long." He didn't seem to mind the fact his chair was creaking precariously.

James gave him a straight-mouthed glare.

I smirked. "How honorable."

James brightened. "We're right across. Don't worry, we'll watch out for you…"

I nodded, then turned swiftly, my robes flaring out along with the wild waves of my ponytail… only to be met with the stern black gaze of the first Hogwart's student I had ever met.

My memory was restored.

I smiled slightly, feeling the slight sting of my lower lip. "Hello Severus. How are you?"

I took a seat beside him and began to unload my shoulder bag. A set of surprised gasps came from the other side of the class as I greeted the Slytherin so calmly. _Surprise, surprise_, I thought darkly. The Marauders did not like this, not one bit, and their grumbling could be heard over the soft chatter of the class getting ready to take notes. I dropped my textbook on the table, balancing my quill on its cover.

Severus Snape, beside me, blinked, letting that lank hair of his quiver slightly. "Fine. A bit disappointed, but fine."

I gave him a frown, but didn't look his way as I flicked to the page number that was suddenly listed on the board. "Why's that?'

"Well," he started, tapping his ink-stained, thin fingers against the desktop, "you haven't redeemed yourself at all for that humiliating overage Sorting. You're in Gryffindor."

I shrugged and glanced at his disgusted expression. "I think Gryffindor is a great house. Everyone has been good to me so far –" his eyes flickered with a nasty look to where the Marauders sat – "and there is nothing wrong with bravery."

He scoffed, looking down at me. "Bravery's bed fellow is stupidity."

I fixed him with a hard stare. "Do I seem stupid?"

He startled, watching me warily, as he flipped through the textbook casually. "Not particularly. Though I don't know you, so my judgement has no grounds."

I smirked at his common sense, and then unscrewed the cap on my ink well. "Good point. Though I will admit something to you, which could nullify my argument but prove that I'm awfully honest –" I saw his eyes narrow suspiciously – "so at least you'll know that about me."

I opened my mouth to speak by Slughorn had begun to write on the chalkboard. I dipped my quill in the inkwell and started to take notes.

Snape's voice came out soft and nearly inaudible over the scratching of quills only seconds later. "Let's hear it then, Hanely."

I strayed from my chicken-scrawl notes. His obsidian eyes were shiny with a mix of curiosity and wariness. His hooked nose was nearly brushing the parchment as he regarded me from the corner of his eye.

"I know nothing about potions," I muttered.

His eyes were turned to me now, and wide. "_What?_'

I took down the extra words Professor Slughorn had put up before I gave my attention to the spindly boy.

"I've never actually studied them…" My admission was barely a whisper.

He looked appalled. As if I were severely ignorant. Or - I read into his completely dismayed expression – as if I were functionally retarded.

"At all?" he hissed.

_Great, now he thinks I'm slow on the uptake._ I felt an angry heat begin to form in my chest. "I know some," I growled. His lip curled in disbelief. I waved my quill exasperatedly splattering little drops on ink on the table. "Healing ones mostly. Angel Tears. Pepper-Up. Blood-Replenishing..."

He gave me a sneer. "That's it?"

I felt my nostrils flare. _Calm yourself, Rowan. Don't let him get under your skin. You're here to learn, not hex a Slytherin._

"Yes," I sighed softly.

He rubbed his face tiredly, as he finished one line of notes. "Wow," he mouthed.

"I never thought I was going to come to school…" I explained with much more calm than I felt. "I would just ask you to please explain some things to me if need be. I'll try not to ruin your potions okay?"

He gave a grudging sigh. "I guess that's acceptable."

I smiled wanly as I drew a careful diagram of the distinguishing marks of a legitimate unicorn corn. "Thank you."

He was very quiet for a moment, and then breathed out. "But don't go asking me questions every two minutes," he snarled suddenly. "You'll have to work at this yourself too. I'm not some tool to get a good mark. I'm not to be used for my talent. Understood?"

Did I look like some leech to him?

I raised an eyebrow, and shifted in my seat. "I don't intend to slack off. I just need some guidance at times. I hope that isn't too much of an inconvenience?"

My face was blank when I met his half amused, half irritated expression.

"It's not too annoying. You're not as insufferable as other Gryffindors." He looked thoughtful and his skin shined dully in the torchlight. "Besides," I heard him mutter, "Slughorn wouldn't want me to spurn the new girl."

I snorted, and then quickly looked down at my notes as the Professor peered at the class over his shoulder looking for the perpetrator.

The moody boy beside me have me an exceptional sneer before going back to his notes – all written in bright green ink.

Potions wasn't that awful… I had some help now… Albeit, reluctant help.

I sighed, then felt the distinct unique feeling of being watched and I strayed my eyes away from my notes across the class to be met by the unflinching disbelieving gaze of a very ruffled-looking Sirius Black.

* * *

As I left the Potions classroom, making a mental note to look up most of what was taken down in my notes later on in the library, a group of raucous boys caught up with me.

"Rowan!"

I sighed.

_Who else would yell after me like that?_

_Marauders._

I turned; jaw set in annoyance already as I was engulfed by the lot of them. They really did engulf me. I was so tiny, that their gangly bodies overshadowed me.

I looked up at each of them, my neck bent back so I could look directly into their disgruntled faces. My muscles bunched unpleasantly in my shoulders.

Damn being so short. I had to crane my neck just to talk to them.

James was the first to speak and I had to hold back a smile at how rumpled he looked - hair sticking up in the back and his tie askew. "Look…" he said fiercely, "Snape might act nice, Rowan. But he's a greasy git okay? Not the kind you wanna hang around with."

He watched me carefully – glasses sliding from the bridge of his nose.

Now I could see why Lily ranted about him being so very annoying.

I turned to each of them, measuring their expressions, which shifted between unease and anger.

Sirius' face few dark when I said nothing for several moments, the sparse stubble that coated his hard jaw and the hollows of his cheeks was accentuated with his swift switch of disposition. Alice was right. He must be popular with the ladies with that look – all dark and rugged.

He played the part well.

"He's involved in the Dark Arts," Sirius growled heatedly. "He's with the sort of people who are veering towards a darker… future. They're not nice people. They have some sort of fanaticism for old rules. Rules that pureblood families support because of a figure…A really powerful wizard… A _psychopath_."

I had never thought him to be so serious – nor to have so much knowledge about this. The truth was, I was all too aware of the Dark Arts, and the rising tide of people who were following the supposed master of these arts. Some sort of… Dark Lord. A man who's understanding of magic was probably greater than anyone the wizarding world had encountered…other than Dumbledore, of course.

I felt a horrible sense of déja-vu with Sirius' unexpected warning. I remembered my father explaining this to me – explaining just how powerful this man was. What gave me the sinking feeling of revisiting the past was also the conviction in the tall boy's voice. He knew exactly how crazy these people could be. I knew how crazy they were of course. I had been almost killed by them weeks ago. My family had been torn apart by acolytes of this unknown man. I held back a shudder at the thought that maybe just maybe this 'Dark Lord' had sent those people to kill my family and I.

We were well known after all – by the criminals and the darker kind.

"_Watch out for the Hanelys_," they whispered to each other in grimy bars and dirty pubs. "_They'll find you_."

When I was young I had wondered why we moved so much. Why we camped in tents and why we continued to chase after people who were so evil, when we knew that as soon as the Ministry failed to jail them because of due process – they would hunt us right back. Until, I grew up and realized it was our duty. It was our job to make sure that those slimy bastards lived in fear of one singular family that traipsed across England. It was our duty to be hunted and live in fear so that… others didn't have to.

Maybe it was selfless, but it wasn't easy either. The fights my mother and father had… I was sure now, as I reflected, staring up at Sirius' intense grey eyes, that these fights had begun because the 'Dark Lord' had marked us. They had only started a few months ago, after all. We were disposing of his followers… He had to dispose of us.

So he did.

Except for me.

But how… could Sirius know the impact, and the massive undertaking the executioner of my family had commenced?

I took a fractional step towards him, wondering if my thinking had left them standing there for an eternity. "How do you know this?"

His eyes grew wide and their grey depths churned. Fear – that was always palpable to me for I sensed it so easily. Anger at my prodding. Revulsion trickled in there too. I saw his lips part slightly with surprise.

I could feel his reluctance as I looked up into his handsome face. But I wanted to know. I barely knew them – the Marauders – yet they were telling me whom I should associate with? It felt so wrong to go on the assumptions of people who knew me so little yet expected to make an impact.

It was funny to see them believe that they had given my classified information. I felt a little smug to know that I had been living with classified information my whole life, and here? In the sheltered walls of Hogwarts? Nobody knew that outside Dark Wizards were wreaking havoc on families just like mine.

Except Sirius knew something. Oh he did. And his mates knew too.

My curiosity was more piqued than ever. I prodded more.

"Well?" I pressed, holding his gaze with an iciness I had acquired over the past little while.

He swallowed and I saw his Adam's apple bob with the nervous movement. He regarded me with a steely stare, until finally his wide, tense shoulders went slack. "I know because I'm related to them. These… fanatics."

_Oh._

_Unexpected._

I raised my eyebrows slightly. "I see."

Remus cleared his throat to get my attention - probably to alleviate his poor mate from whatever stress seemed to have taken over him. I turned to him, his sandy hair falling into his soft kind eyes made me feel much less threatened. He was much less intense than Sirius, he exuded calm and didn't make me want to clutch my wand in my pocket.

He looked so tired anyway… I felt his pain. His dark circles mirrored mine. I always had trouble sleeping now. Setting up silence charms so my screams wouldn't wake the castle. Dumbledore had told me the nightmares were a part of the grieving process when they first started, but I always felt like they made everything worse… He was the one who recommended I set up silence charms so that I wouldn't be bothered by anyone. The house elves had worried about me during the summer months, and when they worry they get rather annoying… So setting up a nice silent barrier around my bed was a must.

The exhausted-looking boy spoke, breaking my reverie. "Look, Rowan. We're not trying to tell you what to do – "

"Sort of," James cut Remus off suddenly.

Remus shot the taller boy a withering look but continued. "We think you're a nice girl. We don't want you to befriend Snape without knowing all the facts. It isn't fair to you." He tilted his head in a soft, concerned manner.

I nodded stiffly. "Thank you guys. I appreciate your concern. I really do."

Sirius looked at me once more and smiled slightly – his distraught look abating. James clapped a hand on my shoulder. Remus' eyes twinkled while Peter smiled nervously – quiet as ever.

I held up a hand and looked to each of them.

The atmosphere changed.

James' grip was quickly gone and I head a soft sigh come from Remus. Peter pursed his lips and looked away from my imploring gaze. My eyes came to be, once again locked with Sirius'. He looked affronted – eyes ablaze and his arms folded across his chest.

"I think I'm capable of weighing someone's character and taking care of myself. Though I thank you, again, for your concern."

With that, I turned away, marching off to my next class, probably leaving some very offended Marauders in my wake.

_Oh well._

I wasn't here to make friends was I?

They were all very nice but having a friend or several friends also meant having someone thoroughly involved in your business.

Something I didn't need, nor could I possibly handle.

Not yet, at least.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please feel welcome to leave any questions or comments! I love hearing from you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Nine - **

**- Rowan Hanely - **

* * *

Needless to say the boys didn't bother me much throughout the rest of the morning.

In fact, they seemed bent on ignoring me.

Touchy these blokes were. _Sensitive_ – probably more so than I was.

But I couldn't say much could I? Being a precocious block of ice…

Despite them ignoring me through History of Magic, where Professor Binns droned on, they seemed to have all picked up Sirius Black's habit of glancing at me with surly stares, and for extra measure? They muttered amongst themselves.

Half of me felt amused, the other half urged me to realize that the Marauders muttering about you was wholly something to be worried about… Having a gang of loud-mouthed sneaks chattering about you behind their hands was not ever, ever going to be a healthy step towards succeeding in your high school life. Not that I knew much of anything about high school life…

So I simply sat straighter in my seat, and kept my shoulders back, listening to the very dead professor lecture in his very dead voice – and took notes whenever I thought he looked vaguely alive. Like when he said a date or started a run-on sentence with the words: _'And this was important because…'_

Even Lily noticed the boys constant grumbling about me, and shot me a very confused look when Professor Binns decided to stare at the back wall. I shook my head, feeling the Marauders eyes on me as I did so. None the less, I was sure I would have to explain this to Lily at some point.

Sure enough at lunchtime, when Alice was with that boy 'Frank' I had heard about the night before, Lily and I sat together at the long Gryffindor table. I quietly placed a forkful of delicious stew in my mouth as I heard Lily '_tut_' softly. "Say," she finally asked me with a smile, "what did you do to get the boys all in a huff, Rowan?"

I shrugged - robes settling lower on my shoulders, and then swallowed. "In nicer words or a basic description?"

She shook her head at my odd question, her emerald orbs shining. The relatively loud jumble of voices in the Great Hall was easier to ignore when you were conducting a private conversation – and not listening to the mass of the voices.

I smirked down at my plate. How could I put this? "They gave me advice and I told them to shove it."

She burst into laugher, and I felt my blue eyes widen in surprise as she tilted her pretty head back. Her auburn waves were shaking with each chuckle, and several other students from the other houses turned to stare at her.

Even Sirius and James glared from down the table. Peter stared dully with his cheeks full of food and Remus – being the most tolerant – simply cocked an eyebrow at Lily's laughter.

I felt Lily's soft hand on my shoulder, and a bizarre feeling of warmth and comfort overcame me.

She grinned at me, showing her little white rows of teeth. "Anyone who tells them to shove it, is an excellent addition to Hogwarts in my books."

I let my smirk deepen, toying with the stew on my plate. "Obviously."

She laughed again, and nudged me with a chuckle when James shot her another dark look.

I felt my resolve slipping as I let myself smile wanly at the kind red head.

So maybe I could make one friend here… Not a best friend…_No one _could replace Willow that way… But a friend.

I guess that was okay.

* * *

Pity that Lily wasn't in my Care of Magical Creatures class…

I frowned as I made my way down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, along with a large group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

There were very few girls in this class. A collected few from what I noticed.

I watched them, as I breathed in the fresh, mountain air and relished in the tickle of long grass against my robes. These girls, seemed to be type to _A) follow a group of boys like lost puppies _(I spotted a gaggle of giggling girls tumbling down the hill behind the Marauders who, from what I saw, paid them no mind, as if groupies were indeed a very normal thing.) Or B) _looked as though they truly didn't want to be here and only took this class for marks_. Exempla gratis right in front of me, as I descended the roughened trail: a couple of Gryffindor girls who looked completely annoyed at the idea of being here – constantly smoothing their skirts and sighing loudly as they stumbled down the rocky terrain.

I seemed to fall into category 'C' of the girls in this class: happy to be outside and humming softly as I made me way down the path. I was very much alone in that category. Not that I minded.

I passed Hagrid's squat cabin, and peered hopefully into the windows to see if he was home.

I felt a sadness blooming.

No one was there.

I would have to go down for a cup of tea once the weekend came around…

The weekend… that seemed so far away…

I continued on my march down to where the class stood before a very gnarled-looking Professor Kettleburn. The breeze swayed the tall grasses and the trees whispered darkly from the forest close by. An odd keening came from the think underbrush… Soft and mewling like, with a very distinct hiss at the end.

The students have each other uneasy glances and several of them backed away from the professor, or to be more specific whatever animal was making that wretched noise somewhere behind him. He of course, didn't move but merely shrugged at the appalling sound. The Marauders, standing idly at the back of the crowd, shifted and sniggered at the teacher's lack of fear after such an eerie noise.

He must have been in Gryffindor – this teacher.

While the class kept backing away from the quivering brush, I took a few steps closer, to the thicket – earning a few disbelieving looks, and some mumbled words from the four very vocal boys at the back.

_Very brave they were, those Marauders. Hiding at the back of the class._ I rolled my eyes at my thoughts.

Professor Kettleburn grinned at me, his scarred face full of mirth. He placed a knobbly hand on my shoulder. "Of course you're not afraid. Are you Hanely?"

He laughed and I tore my intense focus away from the brush to see he wore heavy dragon hide pants, boots and a button up with the logo: 'Creatures International: One Critter at a Time.' I looked to his grinning mouth – missing teeth.

Yup. He was the real thing. He was a creatures expert. No way you get that messed up without years of experience. My kind of teacher.

He was appraising my scars just as I had looked over his. Well doesn't it feel nice to have a nice get together over severe facial scarring? His were more numerous, while mine ran deeper. His face was a tan, which let the disturbingly white ones shine through, while I had always been very pale, so mine looked more like patterns now.

I swear I should invite this bloke for tea, I could go on with comparisons like this all day.

I shot him a sly smirk. "What's there to fret over, sir? They sound like…" I paused, refreshing my memory to the day Willow and I sat on the escarpment watching tiny weasel-like creatures play in the sunlight below. I would dip my foot down, tempting the little ones to snap at me, before Willow could worriedly pull my foot away, scolding me as I laughed.

"Mustelids," I said finally.

He nodded, smiling. "Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor. I'll have to ask you to step back while I explain though sweetheart…"

I nodded, feeling a bit ashamed at being so pushy, then joined up with the other students a few feet away. Some of them watched me warily, as if I were far more dangerous than the animals in the underbrush.

Professor Kettleburn started his explanation of the creatures and I watched him attentively, feeling as though someone that experienced definitely deserved my attention. "So what we're dealing with today is a type of weasel. They are quite common but don't be fooled! They are excellent hiders…"

His lesson was tuned out unfortunately, as I felt a shadow come over me. My hand reflexively went for the wand in my pocket, gripping it fiercely. I stiffened. Every damn muscle in my body at the ready… Then I heard his voice, breathy in my ear.

"How did you know what they were, little know-it-all?"

I threw Sirius an icy look over my shoulder. "Did a lot of camping."

_Well it was a half-truth... I did camp quite a bit..._

He chuckled and tugged at his tie. He had left his robes inside and only wore a dress shirt that clung to him in the autumn heat. A couple of girls beside us eyed his muscular shoulders and arms appreciatively. He did nothing to push away their lusty eyeing of him; in fact he invited it, rolling up his sleeves carefully.

"You didn't seem like the camping type…" he said quietly, as he secured the buttons on his sleeves.

He didn't know who I was - let alone my _type_.

I shrugged indifferently and turned back to watch Kettleburn show the pelt of a Mustelid to each of the students. They touched it with a child-like reluctance. It sprouted a soft tuft of hair between smooth scales. Odd, I had to admit, if you hadn't encountered it before.

James, identifiable by his thin shadow, his wild hair and the fact he couldn't be apart from Sirius for more than five minutes came to stand beside me, staring at the pelt the professor held up over his head. The stocky professor explained Mustelids habitat...Forests… Near lakes… in families that live in dense underbrush.

"It is kind of cool isn't it? It's like half and half…" James said gently.

"They are pretty cool," I acknowledged. "Until they take a chunk out of you."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James give me a frightened look. His eyes wide and skin paling.

_Oh dear Merlin, this boy needs to get out more._

Remus materialised on my other side, making me swivel quickly when I didn't hear him approach. "They bite?" he whispered covertly, gauging my tense posture carefully with round blue eyes.

I nodded quickly and he seemed to mull over the idea of a weasel biting him, with a thoughtful stare towards the bushes behind Professor Kettleburn.

_What a way to reunite with the dear Marauders – talking about woodland creatures._

"Great," I heard Sirius mutter from behind me, "I mean when girls bite I have no complaints… but scaly little freaky animals…?"

Remus looked non-plussed. "How are 'scaly little freaky animals' any different from your average snogging partner, Sirius?"

I snorted. "Don't even answer that. If Remus can compare any of your girlfriends to a Mustelid, I'm horrified enough."

James chuckled and pushed his glasses into place. I felt Remus give me a friendly nudge as he winked at me – eyes sparkling over dark circles.

"Fine," Sirius groaned. "But I wouldn't call them girlfriends…"

I could almost picture his petulant expression without even turning around.

"Now!" Professor Kettleburn called out, clapping his hands together. "These Mustelids are just babies. Their parents were probably eaten by our herd of Thestrals here at Hogwarts… Another animal we will be studying this year," he added with an air of non-chalance. "So we're going to raise these Mustelids as a term project. First things first though. You need to get them out of the thicket and into a cage. Two per cage please and mind yourselves – they bite. Don't injure them please! Be gentle! Go ahead, and we'll see how far you get today! If you have any questions or need anything, please come see me."

The class dispersed into groups and each of them watched the bush with a vague look of confusion. Instead of staring at the thing, I promptly walked over to Professor Kettleburn but not before I heard James grumble something along the lines of: "Be gentle my arse. If it bites me, I'll bite it back."

I was smirking at his comment as I came to stand before the amused-looking professor, who had a bit of straw hanging from his mouth, as he chewed on it calmly.

The sudden breeze ruffled my hair ever so slightly and in the air, I smelled the rust-like twang of blood. I wrinkled my nose. It wasn't very strong… I had gotten used to the smell, and learned to identify it pretty quickly for a human being. It wasn't that I was exposed to massive amounts of it – I had simply come to notice its traits over time.

"Sir, do you have bait?" I asked carefully.

I saw his face split into a smile. "First to ask! Wonderful Miss Hanely!" His voice dropped to a confidential sort of tone. "I generally let them figure out what they need. I don't like to let them to goof off in my class. Here's a bag of dead mice. They love those."

He leaned down to where a group of stained bags lay and handed me one. It was made of material and blood was pooling at the bottom. I took it, and peered inside. _Hmm_. About a hundred dead mice.

Lovely. That's where the smell came from.

The girls were going to positively freak out. I remembered James' terror at the idea of being bitten… _On the second thought some of the boys will too…_

I smiled slightly at the professor. "Thank you, sir."

I made my way over to where Remus stood watching the thicket quiver with a thoughtful expression. I glanced around me, where others were poking at it with a stick or staring at it shaking their heads.

Sirius, James and Peter were trying to shove their hands into the bush. I rolled my eyes as I saw them wince as the branches scratched them.

Remus, it appeared, was the only one actively using his brain. He deserved a little bonus for that.

I kneeled down beside him and smirked at the brunette. "Glad to see someone isn't stupid enough to put their limbs in there…"

Remus smiled politely and then gave the bloody bag a reproachful look as he spotted it. "What's in there?"

I opened it, and wafted the air above it with my hand towards the thicket. The Mustelids would probably smell the blood and get an appetite. "Mice."

"Ah… Bait! I should have thought of that." His voice was reprimanding, even if directed at himself.

I peeled the top of the bag back for easy access. "At least you were thinking… Would you like to team up with me since they aren't getting that far?"

Remus glanced over at his friends who had begun to curse as they dragged their hands back through the bush.

He frowned then nodded with fervour. "Actually yeah. I'd rather not get bitten by something again."

I chuckled, as I pulled out a tiny mouse corpse. "Again? You fool around with creatures a lot?"

He paled slightly as he saw my teasing expression, and then blushed. "No. Just my dog. He likes to play fight. Too much at times."

I snickered. "How menacing. C'mon let's place the mouse close to the bush and when they come out, we can grab them."

His flush dissipated. "Alright. Not too close though or we won't be able to catch them before they go back into the bush."

I repositioned the mouse a bit farther at his advice. "Mmm… You're right."

He reached in the bag, and placed his own mouse at the exact same distance as mine, then came to kneel beside me, gently wiping his bloody fingers on the grass.

"And now?" he questioned.

"We wait."

Sirius sauntered over to where Remus and I knelt. His arm was covered in shallow scratches and a few drops of blood were staining his shirt.

He looked quite put out – I struggled not to grin.

"What are you two doing?" he grumbled.

"Succeeding," I muttered bluntly, staring at the thicket.

Remus attempted to smother his laughter with a cough.

Sirius scowled at us. "Yeah. Sitting there is making a load of difference."

Remus cracked up, and then gestured to the both of us. "No offence mate… Do either of us look marked up or have scratches everywhere?"

Sirius' eyes widened and he glanced at me quickly, and then averted his eyes as I stared up at him.

What was with him?

Realization dawned on me.

_Oh right… my face. My rather… 'marked up' face._

Remus made a little '_hic_' of surprise when he realized what he had said. He turned to me, no doubt realizing that I was the one with scars all over my face and a few nasty cuts. He opened his mouth then closed it like a fish, and his blue eyes filled with remorse. Poor guy. He really felt bad.

I chuckled and glanced from him to Sirius. "Don't worry. This – " I touched my scarred visage – "doesn't count."

Remus seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "Sorry… all the same. I didn't realize…" he mumbled, staring at our two dead mice.

I waved off his apology. "You've nothing to be sorry for. It isn't your fault, Remus. It just is how it is."

That was probably the most truthful thing I had ever said, and Remus gave me a knowing smile. Sirius knelt beside me – ridiculously close, staring at me with a very vivid curiosity. No doubt wondering why I hadn't bitten Remus' head off…

I threw him a dark look so he would stop that stupid staring, but he only grinned wickedly.

"Rowan!" Remus whispered excitedly. "Look!"

From the underbrush a pair of slitted glinting eyes were peeking out from the darkness.

I could feel the curiosity of each of the two boys radiating off of them as they knelt on either side of me.

Sirius' breath stirred the tendrils of my hair against my beck. I stiffened. "Is that it?" he whispered.

I nodded. "Yes. It is. It's going to come out and eat. I guess with its parents gone, it's hungry."

I felt a lump accumulate in my throat and a burgeoning affection for the little creature. Being an orphan, it couldn't be easy. No matter who or what you were.

My dark waves, which were spilling out of my hair tie, stirred again with Sirius' breath and I glanced over at his entranced profile.

"Quit breathing on me. It's annoying."

He smiled and I saw the tiny Mustelid pup creep out into the light. Its dark green scales shimmered and its long snake-like tail curled behind it. Tiny ears swivelled on its head, attempting to catch every sound. A forked tongue slid out between rows of pointed teeth to taste the air. Claws clung the earth slowly and it was so focused on the dead mouse it barely noticed its surroundings.

"Remus?" I whispered.

I felt him nod.

"It's your bait so it's your catch. When it touches the mouse, grab it by the scruff and put it in a cage with the mouse. It will get to eat once it's in there."

Remus looked at me for a moment. I cocked an eyebrow at his uncertainty. "Can you do it? Just because it's the first one and I want to see how it's done."

He really did mean it, he was all about demonstration and observation this one - but I couldn't resist the urge for a good jab in his direction. I grunted. "So much for Gryffindor bravery, Lupin."

He laughed good-naturedly. "Yeah whatever. I belong in Ravenclaw, so what?"

Sirius stirred beside me. "_Tsk tsk tsk_. Pathetic, Moony. Absolutely pathetic."

"I don't see you volunteering to grab it, Padfoot."

Sirius gave his sceptical friend a haughty look over my head. "Watch me."

The tall raven-haired teen rose confidently to creep over to where the Mustelin was tearing into the field mouse with a vengeance, so much so that its little nose was covered in blood.

I tried not to laugh as Sirius took minute steps over to the little creature – glancing at Remus and I with a mix of frantic fear and arrogance.

Remus sighed and leaned towards me. "You know, this is going to turn out badly right? I mean, you don't even know Sirius but you do know that this is going to be embarrassing for him at least?"

I sniggered. "Oh, that's what I'm counting on."

The Mustelin suddenly turned on Sirius with a vicious hiss, bloody spraying the ground as it did so. He skidded to a stop, when the pup's teeth were bared and the soft tufts on its neck were rising with each spitting snarl.

I smothered an oncoming hideous memory of my own blood spurting everywhere in a dark forest and instead let my eyes trail across the rest of the class, trying to take in every last detail of their engrossed features – to drain my mind of thought.

Sirius and the little critter's display had caught the attention of the rest of the class.

"The very first one! Five points to Gryffindor!" called Professor Kettleburn loudly, making my desperate attempt at amnesia successful. Sirius looked up at the teacher incredulously – as if getting points was something very new for him. I guessed he was much more used to losing points…

"He had better not take credit for this…" Remus muttered angrily in my ear.

Sure enough, when Sirius was over the shock of receiving praise, his chest puffed out and he grinned, tilting his head in a roguish manner. "It's no big deal really…"

A couple of Ravenclaw girls I didn't recognize who were watching the display, swished their long blonde hair and the bustier of the two smiled indulgently at Sirius. "Wow! You're so good at this!" she gushed.

In my past life, I was pretty sure people weren't that stupid.

But here was humanity, proving me wrong.

I sighed and watched, with a sick interest as Sirius let a few strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and then shrugged at the tall blonde, peering up at her from under his long lashes. "What can I say, Ana? I've got the magic touch." He winked, and she turned shyly away, blushing like mad.

I made a soft noise of disgust at the back of my throat, and exchanged a meaningful look with Remus, who looked very irritated.

"Magic touch… _Pfft_. You'll see, this is only the beginning with Sirius. It gets more revolting," he mumbled, blue eyes watching the display, then turning on to me.

I was pretty sure my face screwed up into a strange mix of '_aghast_' and _'pure horror_'. Whatever it was, it made Remus crack up.

He suddenly grinned and looked over at Sirius. "OI! You need to put it in the cage you know! Don't just stare at it!"

Sirius' eyes widened and he glanced at the very pissed off Mustelid fearfully. "Er – right you are mate!" he laughed nervously.

I smirked. "Excellent, Remus."

Sirius began to circle the weasel deftly and even grabbed the tail of the dead mouse to attempt to drag it away… Maybe the poor bloke hoped that the snake-like creature would follow but… No such luck. Instead, the pup attacked Sirius' black dress shoe.

It sunk needle sharp teeth into the thick leather and Sirius' face grew a deep red with anger. He reached down, while shimmying his foot to get the little animal off and was surprised to see that the Mustelid had clamped down on his hand instead.

He raised his hand, and the snake-weasel hybrid dangled there imperviously. Blood was beginning to pour down his wrist. He regarded it for a moment, with a frozen sort of look, and then peered at each of the shocked faces of the class.

His cheeks grew redder and his glorious grey eyes were alight once more.

This?

_This was priceless._

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR," he roared, "GET THIS BLOODY THING OFF OF ME!"

That undid me.

For the first time in at least a month, I burst into genuine, loud, unbidden laughter. I didn't even care that it made my mending ribs ache or how my lip stung. It was so beautiful to laugh again.

Remus was cracking up next to me, and when I looked up to meet Sirius' furious gaze, he softened at my great peals of laughter.

He didn't even understand how idiotic he looked, screaming at everyone to help him while the Mustelid hissed even when it was hanging off his hand.

But, he understood that it was hilarious to me. His jaw was much less rigid and his mouth changed from what was a straight line to a bitter, odd smile.

He shook his hand, eliciting another hissing growl from the Mustelid. I rose and took the few steps to where he stood; still feeling my body shake with the occasional laugh.

The creature eyes me warily as I took a firm hold of Sirius' bloody wrist, ignoring the odd warmth of his blood and his skin, and inspected where the creature's teeth were imbedded. I grabbed a hold of the animal's scruff – smiling slightly at the odd feel of its flexible scales and downy fur. I pinched slightly, like a mother nipping the cub as a punishment and it let go of Sirius' bleeding torn hand quickly, squirming in my grasp. It swerved to bite me but I gripped it more firmly and it quieted.

I leaned down to pick up both the half eaten rodent and the full one, and placed both the Mustelid and its meals in a nearby cage, firmly shutting the wire door. The Mustelid appraised me for a moment, and then hungrily bit into the rodent carcass.

When I turned back to where Sirius stood, he was eyeing me with both gratitude and humiliation.

_Serves him right for being a pompous git_, I thought.

By now the rest of the students had dispersed, laughing and whispering over the fact only one Mustelid had been captured and with disastrous results.

Professor Kettleburn had sauntered over to Sirius. James, Remus and Peter, surrounded him, grinning at their best friend.

"Took a nice bite out of you mate!" James was grinning manically, and he clapped a hand on Sirius' back.

Remus was still laughing. "You, of course had to holler at everyone because you were too thick to catch it properly!"

James and Peter joined Remus in his laughing fit and Sirius rolled his eyes. He looked at the burly teacher who inspected his hand carefully. "How's it look?"

Kettleburn sighed. "Should be alright but go see Madame Pomfrey if it changes at all." The teacher turned to me; "I'm off, but good job getting it off Miss Hanely. I expect you'll do good in my class if you continue like this."

He began to climb the hill, motioning others to follow.

I snorted, when I was met with Sirius' playful gaze. "Let's hope it's now poisonous now, Black…" I sing-songed as he cradled his hand.

James laughed and gave me one of those mischievous smiles I was beginning to recognize. "You know, you're alright when you're not shacking it up with Snivellus, Rowan."

I raised an eyebrow and tapped my finger to my chin, feeling a familiar ridge of a scar. "Oh gee. Thank you, Potter."

I waved to them, and then turned away to start following the rest of the class up the grassy knoll. Class was over, and I needed to make my way to Charms.

"Hey Hanely!"

I turned, scowling, only to see Sirius giving me what looked to be a breathless smile. His eyes were smouldering and curious as ever.

"Thanks for saving my arse…"

My scowl evaporated into a smirk. "Yes princess, your stupidity didn't go unnoticed by me and I was forced to save you. I'll see you at supper okay Sirius?"

All I caught was his surprised look before I turned away to head up to the castle.

I sighed softly.

I guess… I could befriend… The Marauders.

_Oh hell, the towel was thrown in long ago. Who was I kidding?_

But I felt some resolve reform, deep within me.

Yes I could befriend them, but I would have to be careful. If I was good at anything – it was being suspicious, so I would definitely play to my strengths.

They were as curious as I was. And reckless on top of it. And rowdy too.

But… I would befriend them, if only for the laughter they gave me.

* * *

**Well thank you for reading, as always! I hope you enjoyed it! And to my faithful readers, did you happen to notice I posted two chapters today? Truth be told this was supposed to be one giant chapter - but I felt as though it was way too long, and that the mood shifted too much so I divided it. This one's a lot more lighthearted in my opinion (Chapter Nine). But never fear, Sirius will be back, chatty as ever. :) Anyways, sorry for the rant! Have a nice day!**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Ten - **

**- Sirius Black - **

* * *

Screams.

Screams echoing off the stone walls with undertones of anguish.

Screams that shook the very night itself – sending great shaking waves into the blackness of the dorm room I shared with my fellow Marauders. It echoed so badly, you'd think the cold room was empty. You might even surmise that this was in fact a dungeon… As if the Gryffindors had swapped living spaces with the Slytherins. You might think that the sudden pressing cold that intertwined with the screams, was a winter wind – not a cool autumn chill.

I stiffened beneath the heavy burgundy covers, and they suddenly felt oppressive with the fear that was settling in my chest. Despite the frigid air, sweat began to gather between my shoulder blades and under my thick flop of hair that stuck to my forehead.

These screams… they continued in the form of strangled sobs that seemed to travel under the heavy oak door, creeping into the cracks and fissures of mottled wood to assault the room within.

These were the kind of sounds any human would respond to – no matter what. I swear, in some way, some part of me, the primal part, said 'these are the sounds of danger, of genuine crazed torture and the screams you should hope to never recognize.'

_Who knew my inner primal self was a poet?_

Damn being a poet right now – I needed to figure this out.

To make it stop, if only to get some sleep.

A sleep – that wouldn't be woken by such… sounds.

My body was responding now, and I wasn't a stiff lump beneath the covers anymore. I was ripping off the fear-soaked sheets to snatch my wand off the wobbly night table.

Another scream erupted.

_Bloody hell_. I gripped my wand more firmly.

Light – moonlight splashed across my bed through the window as the clouds parted in the night sky. I lifted my face to it, feeling some semblance of peace as the dorm room was thrown into view – shirts thrown haphazardly across the floor, trunks open with their contents pouring out… This peace was ruined, by the abrupt smothering of the moon by more clouds – I was thrown into darkness yet again.

The sudden pitch black let my body clench with the fuzziness this sudden awakening possessed.

But this wasn't a dream… I couldn't fool myself into thinking that the shiftiness was my own mind playing tricks on me. Whatever dream quality it could have had, was abruptly evaporated.

I'd had confusing dreams... I think everyone does. Those dreams, where you wake up – breathing heavily, stomach clenched and twisting, the frazzled sort of line that reality was…being completely lost to you. Yes… I'd had those… half sitting up in bed and grabbing at my hair in frustration because I'd let myself fall so deeply into something so… fictional. Yet sometimes, my dreams weren't that fictional. When I told Moony about it, the whiz he was had explained it as a distorted reality – we dream what is in our lives, but our subconscious has toyed with it.

Subconscious.

_Hah._

My subconscious had been bent on war lately. All through the summer, my warlike dreams had plagued me. Regulus – my stomach spasmed with something between shame and disgust – had been speaking of joining up with the other pureblood families in their loyalty to 'the Dark Lord'.

My brother – looking so much like me in my dream states – wand pointed at my throat. My pleading with him…

No.

Not tonight.

Not here.

That nightmare was nowhere to be seen.

This was no dream.

This was real.

The cries – they were words. So much like my dreamlike pleading.

A single word calling out, indistinguishable between the magical walls of the school.

Muffled…

I flicked my head back and forth. _Black, c'mon. Focus._

I strained to hear it – this single word – but instead the rustling of Remus stirring in the darkness was all that I could find in the abrupt stillness that had come over the room. The air – without the screams, seemed to be holding its breath.

I copied it, and felt myself squeeze my wand even harder.

Moony shifted again. He had to be awake. Furry senses aside – the unknown yells could wake the dead. I searched him out; pointing my wand to where I knew his bed was, across from me.

"_Lumos_," I muttered, and in the soft emission of light, his blue eyes were watching me, mirroring my sheer uncomfortable surge of fear and curiosity.

Oh they were never a proper combination.

I think, if I were to do Muggle drugs, it would be something like this.

Not that they were out of the question but…

"What the hell was that?" Moony hissed. The sleep that would have normally clouded his features at this time of night was gone and his dishevelled hair was as wild as his expression.

Another sob shook the air.

I breathed out, and clenched my jaw.

"More importantly," I heard myself whisper in a growl, "who is that?"

Remus' eyes widened with my question.

Someone, here in Gryffindor, wasn't right.

'Wasn't right'… Merlin, real wordsmith I was. They were probably getting their bloody fingernails ripped out, and here I was thinking they 'weren't right.'

_Forget my being a poet._

_I was a tactless Marauder, and so be it._

Moony leaned over and grabbed his wand, still watching me with that questionable stare.

James groaned in his slumber, flipping over in bed to shove his face into the pillow. His leg was falling off the bed, and his mouth was open, spittle slick his cheek.

_Trust my best mate to sleep through this._

With a scoffing noise emitting from my throat, I swung my legs over the edge of the high bed, and shoved a sleeping James with my foot. Carefully, I trained my wand on him.

I'd been with him in this dorm six years. A nice '_levicorpus_' spell was sometimes needed to get him to class on time. The light from my wandtip might prove sufficient though. James shook his head – hair springing out everywhere, and eyes blinking angrily as he glared up at me.

"Ow! What the fu – "

I gave him another shove in the ribs. "Get up, Prongs. Something's wrong."

I heard a muffled grunt and a muttered epithet from the other side of the room. I flashed a grin over my shoulder and saw Remus dragging Peter's ass out of bed. I could always count on Remus in times like these…

Peter – he was easier to wake up than James though.

I watched as James shoved my foot away angrily. He groaned again, and rubbed his face with an air of a small child being woken by his mum during a much-needed afternoon nap.

Too bad I wasn't his dear sweet mum. "Up, before I tell Lily you said her name in your sleep."

He looked horrified, even with his eyes blearily searching my face. "'Kay. Fine. Don't please. Was' goin' on?" He moaned, and made a motion to lay his head back in the pillow. I nudged him again with my foot, and he scowled. Right charmer he was. "It's so early… Whatever it is… McGonagall won't get mad… She loves us… sorta… The Quiddich Cup… Yeah?"

I rolled my eyes.

_Mental._

Never trust Prongs to be helpful when awoken. I mean, any other time, yes, I would trust him with my life.

I wouldn't trust him with a flobber worm in this state.

Another ear-splitting, scraping scream broke out and the soft scuffle of people going down to the Common Room gave the crescendo of pain soft undertone.

James eyes weren't so angry, or so glazed. "That wasn't McGonagall was it?"

I snorted, and heard Remus sigh in exasperation.

"No, James." Moony said as he came to stand beside James' bed. Peter laughed quietly from his place at the door. In the dim, magical light, Remus looked sallow. "Unless McGonagall is watching her tartan robes being shredded. Then it might be her."

My best friend nodded, and groped for his glasses on the night table, before I grabbed them and thrust them into his searching hand. He shoved them on his nose, they were immediately slipping off. "Thanks… So we're gonna check it out then, mates?"

I heard a chuckle from Remus. "Obviously."

James stumbled from his bed, shoving his wand in his pyjama pocket and clapping my shoulder as we rose to join Moony and Wormtail where they stood at the door.

I shoved the door open, watching as James raised a finger, in a bleary sort of way to his lips. I stifled a laugh and we quietly moved into the hall – my wandlight guiding us. It was odd to see the hallway alight this late. It was even more odd to not be hiding under James' cloak while we scampered over the cold floor.

The most unsettling thing though, was the whispers and voices of people coming from down the winding staircase.

The light was brighter than it should have been. The fire having obviously flared up with someone's attentions.

Oh, no way we were the only ones awoken and curious. This was Gryffindor.

_Nosy buggers united._

Upon hearing the voices, we charged down the stairs, and I uttered a quick 'Nox' to rid myself of the unnecessary light.

I felt my brow lift. Almost everyone was there. What an odd gathering, this Friday night…

They were all in their jammies – how endearing, staring uneasily at the stairs that led up the girl's dorms. Muttering and rubbing at their eyes sleepily. Some of the girls were looking quite scared. The guys, had their wands out and were discussing very avidly by the fire.

The fire was lit, as predicted and the reds and golds on the room were lovely and warm in the flickering luminosity.

But the air… was cold.

What was this?

What was _going on_?

The confusion that had clouded me all day seemed to be swelling to near uncontrollable levels. I wanted to stomp around and shake everyone. I wanted to pull out my hair because I wasn't understanding why this day, this night was so freakishly out of the ordinary, because I was out of the loop.

James was radiating the same confusion… he leaned towards me, his words muffled in the talk that surrounded us. "Why isn't McGonagall here yet? I mean, she's not about to ignore some girl screaming like a banshee?"

Good question. Goody-goody Evans should have sent for her by now right?

I looked around, searching for a shock of red hair… and, I felt my throat constrict in an odd way – and of course, looking for the usual head of wild dark waves that accompanied it.

Nowhere to be seen.

She'd been here… What? A week? Not even. Just today, I reflected on how she had been here a mere five days – and yet, here I was, searching for her in vain.

Remus was on my other side, watching the crowd as I had, and his pale eyes were focused on mine when he found them both missing too.

We seemed to all be here…

A scream erupted.

Clearer than ever before.

More anguish-filled than it had been in the comfort of our dorm.

"_FLYNN_."

"_FLYNN_."

"_FLYNN_…" – a pained sob, which was wretched with its guilt – " _I'M SORRY. I'M SORRY. SHOULD HAVE LEFT_…"

Her voice dropped – so low, as if she were speaking to someone in earnest. As if she were trying desperately to explain to them, as if she were trying to repent.

I strained to listen, and felt my friends lean forward in an attempt to hear the one-sided conversation as well.

"_Oh… Flynn. I'm sorry. So sorry. Please… Please let me go_…"

James made a small confused noise. "What in the world could be going on in that girl's mind…"

I shot him a nasty look – I could be missing out on her words with his useless commentary shutting out her low penance.

Remus seemed to agree.

His blue eyes rolled, and he smacked James smartly on the head. "Shut up."

Prongs looked disgruntled but leaned even more towards the staircase to catch the quiet words that were once again pouring from one of the dorms upstairs…

"_I want to die. I can't live without you_."

It sounded as if she couldn't. Not ever.

"_I won't live without you_."

She loved them, whoever they were.

"_I WON'T. I WON'T. I WON'T. DAMN IT, FLYNN. TAKE ME WITH YOU_."

Utter devotion.

It was a scraping scream now. The voice was so used, overused.

The Common Room was quiet, other than a few gasps and cries of fright. The younger girls on the couch had squealed and shifted closer to their friends, and started to cry.

I had found the word she had been screaming.

A name.

Flynn.

I blinked, and felt a tiny lock of my hair move flicker with the movement.

What was I supposed to do?

What could any of us do?

Just listen, and wait?

"Sirius…" James said uneasily.

I shook my head. Feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise with something I could not name.

"Please!"

This wasn't the screaming voice.

It was desperate, yes, but it wasn't gone past the point of sanity.

It was… familiar.

James, stiffened beside me – getting that, disgustingly worried look I'd seen very rarely. I mean, I knew my best mate like the back of my hand… He was no worry wart…

"Please! Someone get McGonagall! Someone get the Headmaster! PLEASE! I can't wake her up! SHE WON'T WAKE UP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP!"

I barely took note of the third year who took off in direction of the portrait hole. A fourth year girl joining him.

It came from the depths of the girls dormitories, the helpful, non-anguished voice.

How often had I heard that voice nagging at me about History of Magic homework?

_Lily._

I sighed, but more out of self-centred exasperation than anything else.

Why was I so damn slow today?

"Bloody hell…" Remus' voice was shaky.

I looked at James – he was paling, and his hands were running through the tangles of his hair.

"That… that was Lily… asking for the Headmaster."

I whipped around, seeing Alice looking quite traumatized, on the tattered red, quilt-covered couch. She was wringing her hands and watching James and I with a mix of embarrassment and very palpable fear.

Lily only shared a dorm with two other girls.

It wasn't the first time that day I had connected the dots and it came to the same person.

The girl I was looking for – the brunette I was always watching for. The girl that had scared the life out of me upon meeting her a few days prior…

_Rowan_.

Rowan was screaming…

My breath was pulled in sharply, with a painful huff. My nightshirt was sticking to me with sweat once more.

How could it be that tiny, doll?

How could that… voice come from that little quiet being?

It's ferocity… It matched her.

The stone steps that twirled upwards to where that girl, I was beginning to call a friend, lay in the throes of some dream, some incomprehensible labyrinth… were inviting.

I took a tentative step – unsure.

What could I do?

I couldn't even get up there… The girls dorms had protection charms.

I felt so useless.

Remus, beside me, twitched with something I could only call disquiet. James was watching the stairwell with a serious sort of intensity – like he was looking for the bloody snitch or something. Peter was staring at me anxiously, biting his nails.

Useless.

The screams, her screams started again…

"_FLYNN_."

Like a mantra.

"_FLYNN_."

As if it were the one word that she could remember.

"_Flynn_…"

A slam, made us all jump, and we turned to see the portrait hole wide open. That third year was running towards the mass of Gryffindors, a frown on her face.

"I-I- don't know when it started…" the girl stuttered.

Out of the darkness, of the corridor, a very stern McGonagall in a tartan nightgown was sweeping in. Her mouth was pinched and her dark eyes sharp.

She was as worried as we were.

Behind her, a tall form was coming from the shadows. An immediate stop to the chatter – as our headmaster came into the room. He looked just as concerned as McGonagall. His blue eyes were crinkled and his mouth turned down. He didn't wear his night clothes, but a flowing pearl grey robe. I think I'd be one of the very few in this world if I saw Headmaster Dumbledore in a nice velvety pair of button- up jammies.

He sped past the group, his movements quick, and he stopped to nod to James and I.

"Is Lily Evans with her, at the moment Mr. Potter?" I couldn't catch the look he gave my best friend, but it was something fleeting, yet his voice betrayed nothing: calm and derisive.

His blue eyes caught mine briefly when I nodded quickly.

"Yes, she's up there with Rowan…" James finally said in a respectful voice.

I couldn't blame him. I mean, we were a bunch of loud-mouthed blokes at times – but Dumbledore seemed to see right into you.

People couldn't deny that man anything, and I knew I was a part of that 'people' who were simply smart enough to put good faith in the wizard.

The Headmaster nodded. He turned away from us, and began to ascend the steps with a steady gait – long white hair flowing behind him.

I didn't care that McGonagall was shooing students to bed. I wouldn't be moved. I'd like to see her try to budge me along with that hawk-look. I wasn't going to move.

A quiet knock and frantic words from what I presumed to be Lily…

The screams began again, and I saw James flinch as they rose into a crazed shriek.

"_NO! THEY LEFT! THEY LEFT! Oh… it's not your fault… No… Flynn…Sweetheart… Longer legs… They were too fast… I'm so sorry_…"

A booming voice broke through the sobbing. It wasn't a yell, but a very soothing, strong command that could be heard from the Common Room.

"Rowan, wake up."

The sobbing stopped, and I heard a soft 'thank Merlin' from somewhere up the stairs.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

It was over…

She was awake.

* * *

**Well there you are! I am sorry to have taken so long to update, I really do apologize. Exams are killer, don't you think? I do... Well I hoped you enjoyed the chapter, and all will be played out within the next chapter! Have no fear! Please feel free to express your opinion, or leave your thoughts in the form of a review or private message. **

**Oh also! Before I forget - I found a very beautiful edit\song\video dedication to Harry Potter on Youtube - done by an incredibly talented youtuber - it was very touching. Usually I don't like these sort of edits, but her work is special. It really captured the essence of Harry Potter ... I wanted to share it with you guys, fellow die-hard Potterverse lovers. **

**I attempted to set up a link for you to copy paste here (spaces and everything) - but no matter the little spaces and little tricks, Fanfiction despises links. Sorry! So if you're interested, you can search 'Marchin On' by the user: dazzleme7 on you tube **

**Sorry if this was a bit of rant! Have a good day! Thank you for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Eleven - **

**- Sirius Black - **

* * *

I waited at the foot of the stairs, not even bothering to look as the girls waited for McGonagall's word to go up to their beds.

The girl, who had woken me in a fit of screams, was awake above me. The banister felt slick beneath my fingers, and I felt like… maybe I was up there more than I was here. I didn't seem to hear the mutterings of all the girls around me. I don't think I was focused on how I might have looked to those girls who were huddled up, whether it was to rush up to bed, or to ogle at the girl who had been on the very brink of hell...

I stared at my feet. A toe poked out of the grey sock, and it was stark against the scarlet carpeting... I'd forgotten to ask my father to go shopping for clothes in Diagon Alley. We had been fighting.

We were always fighting weren't we…

I smirked down at my crappy sock, and my wriggling toes.

_What a lovely time to embrace family issues._

Cries of surprise and whispers began, I felt James shake my shoulder… and I looked up, practically feeling my neck snap… to see the Headmaster with his arm around her - the very cryptic Rowan.

My stomach churned and flipped, and I felt my mouth part slightly with… fear? Pain? Sympathy?

Her blue eyes were wide, red-rimmed, and they gazed blankly past us. They were glazed over, and the shaking of her hands and her body couldn't be masked by Dumbledore's tight hold on her. Her tiny shoulders shook, only magnifying just how small she looked. Her hair was wild across her chest, as if she had been tossing and turning – and, I knew now, she had. Her hair seemed even darker, despite the obvious noir of the night, almost stuck to her skull with glistening sweat. The ghost of a messy braid on the crown of her tiny head. The ridges of her scars shone, and her mouth seemed to be set in a tight line – as if she had a knife digging somewhere within her.

She caught my gaze, and those icy orbs snagged me. I wanted to reach out. I wanted to hug her… or something a friend could do in this situation… She frowned at me - that soft, scarred face scrunching up in confusion. As if she were trying to place me. As if she couldn't recognize me.

She descended the stairs, and I barely noticed the redhead that walked down the stairs behind her in a wobbly fashion, clutching the banister. James certainly did – I heard him sigh, and spring forward, as if Lily could fall, and he might be lucky enough to catch her.

Dumbledore nodded to us, still keeping a confused, shivering Rowan held tightly to him. She no longer looked at me. She seemed to be looking at something no one could see… and the whispers in the Common Room grew to a ridiculous level as Dumbledore guided the petite teenager from the Gryffindor quarters and out the portrait hole. The grand man leaning to speak to the brunette in a soft, reassuring voice.

I rubbed my face with my hands, and turned to my friends.

Lily was gripping James shirt, and he rubbed her back, tilting his head to listen to her. I could tell he was loving it – absolutely loving it, but hey, there was a definite sympathy and worry there, so I wasn't about to strangle him, for making a move on Evans just because her friend had just lost it.

Lily shook her head and red waves danced. She was obviously talking to the gang about what the catalyst was… "No – I don't know what started it. I just woke up and she was thrashing… so I tried to hold her down but it got worse."

I stiffened at the thought of her thrashing in pain.

Remus was looking just as affected as I was. "You tried your best…" he trailed off. "I mean, no one else was willing to help out, and you were caring enough to do it."

I saw James throw a nasty look in Alice's direction, where she sat, still on the tattered old couch, discussing the events with McGonagall. He looked as if he might open his mouth to say something, but Lily's grip tightened on his sleeve, and she gave him a hard look.

His mouth snapped shut, and he looked pointedly at me – daring me to comment.

I stifled a half-hearted laugh.

James was _so_ whipped.

Oh well, who better than by Lily. She was probably the only girl, let alone human being who could keep my buddy in line.

"Excuse me."

We all shifted, and a very tired-looking McGonagall was watching us, her eyes as sharp as ever. It was a bit of a shock to realize we were the only ones left in here. All the boys had returned to bed, and all the girls were no doubt discussing this in annoyingly high-pitched 'gossip-time' tones under the covers.

Remus looked very meek in the sudden presence of authority, James smirked, Peter gave a shy smile, Lily looked a little brighter, and me?

I winked.

The professor was not amused. Her dark hair was shining fiercely and her eyes were like stones.

"While this night's antics have proved out of the ordinary, you all should be back in your beds at this time. So please do not dally, and go up to the dormitories. You might have no classes tomorrow, but I do not think that you should be up at such an hour." Her voice was crisp and even. She was serious – even in a nightgown.

Remus nodded slowly, as if weighing out her logic, and James looked a bit fuddled. Like maybe she wasn't really talking to us.

I didn't want to go upstairs.

_No way in hell._

"Professor McGonagall…" My voice didn't waver even when she turned the full force of her most severe expression on me. "I was hoping that perhaps a couple of us could stay up and wait for Rowan. I mean… we're her friends."

"Yes," Remus said delicately from my side, "I was thinking along the same lines as Sirius…"

Our Head of House turned to fix me with a steely glare, and I struggled to maintain my air of non-chalance.

I was just being a nice guy. I didn't want to see Rowan alone or anything…

"I believe it is unnecessary for you to wait on Miss Hanely, considering she will be escorted back to Gryffindor Tower with Headmaster Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall said to me, scrutinizing my every feature.

I let myself look worried – allowing for once, my honest feelings to shine through as I spoke with one of my professors. "But Professor… What if the girls come down to haggle her? What if they bother her simply because Lily is not here?"

McGonagall's stern face faltered for a moment, as if she was thinking about what I had said… Of course she knew the cruelty of teenage girls. I struggled against a smirk. I knew I was in. Only a quintessential Gryffindor could soften McGonagall's heart.

"I highly doubt – "

If there was ever going to be a time in the history of Hogwarts where I could cut McGonagall off, it would be now, out of concern for a petite little woman that I simply had to see. "Professor! You know that they are so gossipy…" I let my eyes widen with sincerity, yes, this was perhaps the only Slytherin trait I had - cunning. "I will take care of her, and if she needs someone to talk to, she'll have a friend waiting."

She tilted her head, still serious. "If I hear that you have taken advantage of Miss Hanely, I assure you it will be the combined wrath of the Headmaster and myself that befalls you, Mister Black. Do you understand?"

I nodded sagely. "Yes."

She clicked her tongue. "Then do what you please so long as it is within this Common Room, and make sure that Miss Hanely goes up to her dorm room unbothered."

I gave her a smile, as sweet and innocent as I could possibly be, before sneaking a glance to the group of friends that stood by me.

James… looked a little miffed. He scowled and crossed his arms, not having Lily hang on to him anymore allowed him to do so. Maybe that's why he looked so pissy…"Why is it that I have to go up to the dorms? I mean, let's be honest here Professor… Is Sirius really more welcoming than I am? I mean – don't I look much more cuddly?"

Remus chuckled, as Professor McGonagall gave him a very direct dirty look. I heard Lily cough slightly, which made James look about as insecure as a little prepubescent girl trying on a training bra.

Imagine that? James in a training bra.

I could – _seemed plausible_.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Shut up, Prongs. You wanna know what's being honest? You sound like a griping Slytherin. I'll stay up and watch out for Rowan, okay? You just go beddy-bye."

I pinched his cheek, causing him to smack at my hand in anger.

McGonagall, had the faint glimmerings of amusement in her eyes. "I really shouldn't allow you to so blatantly put down another house…" – she flicked her hand in a carefree manner – "but, that would be hypocritical. Up to bed all of you."

I nodded to each of my friends, and ignored James' mouthing of the words "you are going to pay, Padfoot", focusing rather on Remus nodding seriously at me as they climbed up the stairs.

Lily lingered, watching me carefully.

Her green eyes were searching me out, and I cocked an eyebrow at her, despite McGonagall tapping her foot in impatience, waiting for Evans to get a move on.

"Thank you, for staying to wait up for her…" Lily whispered so low; I could barely make it out over the tapping of McGonagall's slipper.

I nodded, and watched her climb the staircase, red locks bobbing behind her.

McGonagall inclined her head, and whispered a soft 'goodnight' before disappearing out of the Common Room, leaving me with my thoughts.

I took a seat on the empty tattered couch, and lay my head in my hands, willing, compelling my brain to plop out of my skull and into my palms to relieve the aching confusion.

What could have caused this? That was no normal dream. There had to be a trigger. There had to be something, or someone who, as Remus put it, 'toyed with her subconcious'.

I felt a slow spreading aggravation, and I closed my eyes, attempting to see, what could it have been?

I let my fingers press against my closed eyes.

Maybe it was Alice – because of what happened this morning…

My eyes squelched tighter. I didn't think so… but….

I thought back, there was nothing else to do, but think anyways.

And who better to think about than the girl I was waiting on?

* * *

_Five days, since the day the Marauders had welcomed a certain tiny brunette with open arms – for reasons unknown._

_It was Friday morning._

_Fridays. _

_Just the word was marvellous wasn't it? It screamed 'wicked beginnings and 'freedom'. The start of the weekend has some odd potency for me… Maybe because I was a lazy git who couldn't wait to loaf around on the first weekend of the school year._

_Well, only Moony and Lily actually did anything productive on the weekend._

_Let me clarify the word 'productive' for you. Productive for me, is a good snog in a broom closet, or playing a vicious prank. 'Productive' for our dear Remus was finishing a Potions essay early… two weeks early._

_The early morning light was steaming through the great stained class windows, and I suppressed a laugh as I made my way down the winding staircase._

_What a smart bloke Moony was._

_He actually reminded me of Rowan. Or… rather Rowan reminded me of Remus… She was bright. I had come to realize over the small amount of time I had been in her vicinity that, yes, she was smart. But, with none of that cockiness most people with brains possessed. Like Remus – so damn modest, the two of them. They clicked, being so studious and quiet._

_I wouldn't dare admit that it tweaked me a little to see her sitting, completely quiet with him. Moony, that is. Ignoring the rest of the Common Room, and both of them correcting each other's homework, pointing out little mistakes in soft tones._

_She was always so quiet. One of the many things I'd come to notice, but never really fully realize, time and time again. Her silent nods, her frowns and her very – I gulped – direct gaze._

_She exuded power, even with a simple look._

_Often I found myself in the same position I had been in upon meeting her._

_I felt wary of her, but completely, consumed… as well._

_She didn't want protection – I grimaced – she had made that quite clear when she decided to stay friends with Snivellus against our advice… Merlin, I wanted to throttle him sometimes when I saw him working methodically alongside her in Potions, and explaining the tasks in great detail, her nodding all the while. He was just such a slimy jerk, and it made me antsy to see her so calm around him._

_I was going to fail the stupid class anyway. Her stupid shiny hair was always flickering in the low torchlight, as I watched her out of the corner of my eye._

_Despite it all… this deep independence… she seemed delicate to me; with tiny hands and a little body hidden constantly under dark robes._

_I didn't know why I watched her. For her grace? For her odd, striking appearance? But I did, no matter the reasoning, and I saw the changes that this week had made on her._

_Oh, she was still cold. That wall of quietude and abruptly halting words was always in place but… she was defrosting._

_I could put it no other way than the iciness was fading and some warm interior was burning through. It was so obvious in the way she let that surprising mischievousness into her smile, and sometimes she would laugh and get a very surprised expression afterwards, as if it were all wrong._

_She would come to know it wasn't so bad to let herself go, I thought as I finally made my way into the Great Hall. My bag was thrown unceremoniously over my shoulder and my feet dragged themselves in their usual lazy gait. My hair was scruffy and damp from my shower and I felt my tie loosen fractionally as I moved. I sauntered over to where my friends sat under banners of scarlet and gold – the Gryffindor table. Trickles of Lily and Alice's conversation hushed conversation came to greet me, along with the usual breakfast smells and incessant chatter of hundred of teens._

_That was the only thing that greeted me. Moony, Wormtail and Prongs were watching the two girls across the wide table with avid interest._

_Some friends they were. I smiled to myself, and plopped down in my normal spot between Remus and Prongs, bemused as James' forkful of eggs missed his mouth – he didn't seem to mind or notice, his eyes were locked on his redheaded obsession, behind circular, silver-rimmed glasses._

_I sighed and turned to look at this little battle of wits that was occurring across from me._

_Lily's face was blotchy with frustration and her green eyes were flashing dangerously. Her hair seemed to capture her anger with its red-fire colouring._

_Automatically, I was on the defensive – twitching towards my wand pocket. A word of advice here? A volatile Lily, was a very untrustworthy, admittedly, scary Lily indeed. One wrong move, and that fury would be directed at me._

_I sipped some pumpkin juice and saw Alice's desperate expression in face of Lily's enraged aura._

_"What's going on?" I asked Moony from the corner of my mouth. I hoped my attempt at ventriloquism worked._

_Remus gave me a nudge with a sharp elbow – barely moving so as to not blow our cover. I swallowed a yelp. "Shhhhh. I'll tell you if they don't. Now hush, Padfoot."_

_If it hadn't been for the loud chatter of several younger Gryffindors nearby, Lily would have surely heard him._

_I felt relief. __Safe__._

_Evans leaned towards her closest friend, auburn waves bouncing perilously. "I can't believe you would tell James of all people!" she burst out angrily, shaking her head in what looked to be disappointment. Funny… how I had no idea just how much of a disappointment Alice would prove to be later that night…_

_Alice winced at this._

_I raised my eyebrows and felt James splutter incoherently beside me._

_This was satisfyingly awkward. You see, I have a theory on awkward. It's only satisfying when you have no part of it. And this? Well this was hilarious._

_"I'm not that bad, Lily…" James muttered in his quietest tone. If I wasn't so damn interested in this spat I might have turned to laugh in his face, or even defend him, but hey, what's a curious Gryffindor to do?_

_Something annoying of course._

_"What the hell are you going on about? It's unsettling to see you so red at breakfast, Lily," I interjected bluntly. I didn't even bother to see if anyone had so much as paused to consider my question. Of course they did. I shovelled some sausages on my plate as a distraction. This might stir things up a bit…_

_An indignant huff erupted, and I struggled against a threatening smirk. "Hi, Sirius. I happened to be 'going on about' how Alice here, isn't capable of not spreading people's business…"_

_I still stared at my small mountain of sausages, and felt my brow furrow. I knew Alice was a gossip, that was nothing new… but Lily was usually a little less… mean? It was odd seeing her so upset but lacking that sprinkle of compassion._

_There was a crash of a fork and knife against a plate and I was abruptly ripped away from my sausages in alarm. Alice's round face looked hurt now as she stared at Lily._

_I raised a single sausage gingerly to my mouth – hoping it would get there despite my lack of attention to it._

_"James was the first person I saw! He wouldn't say anything you know that! Besides… that sort of thing shouldn't be private… I felt so bad for her…" Alice trailed off in a slightly sympathetic voice._

_No such luck. My sausage was forgotten and I felt a prickly sense of unease mixed with a twinge of anger that was sprouted from my confusion._

_Who were they talking about?_

_My mind scoffed. Uh, Black? Wake up. I frowned. Who isn't here? Which pale, solemn presence is missing, hmm? Who's female? And excessively private? Rowan bloody Hanely that's who._

_I stiffened slightly. Who was Alice to talk about Rowan in any way, shape or form? She didn't know her._

_Hell, none of us did._

_"Oi," my voice was firm with my fresh wave of erratic emotion, "is this about Hanely?"_

_I steadied each girl with a hard look. Alice's lip was pursed and Lily pressed her fingers to her temples in confirmation. I twisted to see Remus looking especially upset… a little angry even. His lip curled slightly as if he was about to snarl and he was rigid. Oh… He wasn't happy at all. He had that 'I'm offended and hurt but I won't say anything 'cause I'm too freaking nice' look on his face. That lip curl was new though. Lessons from Snape I suppose? I let it sink in… If Remus was upset, it was something worth getting worked up over… Even James was more rigid than Moony and he grumbled softly as he prodded his leftovers._

_"Oh come on!" I burst out suddenly. "One of you will tell me eventually."_

_Remus sighed and shared a look with Lily, as if ensuring she wouldn't rip his throat out should he tell me what happened to her… what went wrong with Rowan. Lily gave him a stiff nod, then shoved a piece of toast into her mouth like chewing would air her to not jump into his explanation._

_Moony let out another tired sigh, flicking away his sandy hair while I watched with the rapt attention so many of my classes deserved. "So Alice saw Rowan changing last night – " he started._

_I felt my eyes widen slightly._

_Of course, I wasn't a stranger to women or girls disrobing but it was so weird to think of how she might look completely undressed… _

_I shivered slightly._

_"Of course you start it that way…" James said with an amused smirk in Moony's direction._

_Remus waved him off. "Had to get Padfoot's attention somehow." Oh, he did. I was blinking away thoughts on just how Rowan might look beneath those robes… "Anyways!" My thoughts reformulated abruptly with his words. "Alice and Lily see her and well you know she doesn't appear to have… well…" A fold of confusion was created between his eyes, as he tried to put it nicely. "She doesn't look so… preserved… the scars… She's not dainty, you know?"_

_On the contrary, I found myself thinking she was entirely delicate… in a disturbing sort of way. That lovely dark expression…_

_"That's putting it mildly! She's completely bruised up, Sirius!" Alice cut in with an exasperated tone._

_Bruised up?_

_I felt my jaw tighten._

_I raised an eyebrow and gripped my goblet. "How so?" I asked before taking a sip of pumpkin juice; attempting to cover the odd intonation my vocal cords had just been strangled with._

_Alice's brown eyes looked as though they were worried. "All over her sides and her back… She's almost purple and yellow – "_

_My stomach clenched._

_"Don't you dare say disgusting," Lily ground out at her. Her tiny hands were wrapped around the gold fork and knife in tight fists._

_For once, I was glad Lily had barged in here._

_Alice pulled a slight face, as if she had smelled something rank. Revulsion registered in her features."Well, it is…" she said simply._

_Remus let out an angry cough, that seemed to be smothering a growl. James leaned forward, mouth turned down at Alice's cruelty. His hazel eyes narrowed._

_I didn't know what to feel. It was a sort of violent mix. Angry? Grab her by the robes and shake her? I fought the urge to embarrass her, and make her feel as sorry as she ought to._

_Lily though, she was livid. I don't think we even compared to her shaking anger._

_She jutted her fork at Alice, and again, I was almost respectful at her loyalty to our new tentative friend. Rowan didn't deserve to be called… disgusting. She was a nice girl. A bit cold, but still… Being cold or different didn't earn that title. Nor did the fact that she might be a little brusque. She was really more than nice… she was fiercely kind somewhere, of that I was sure._

_"You said you wanted to become an Auror, Alice?" Lily hissed. "Well I assure you, you'll be seeing things much more disgusting than those bruises. Which are by the way, old injuries. Just a few broken ribs healing. A lack of bruise paste, if you will. Injuries anyone could get. Injuries you could get soon enough, if you really do want to become an Auror! So please stop exaggerating and humiliating Rowan any further."_

_Whoa._

_I felt my mouth open with a slight pop, and a breath of surprise came from me. I would never mess with Lily again… Okay, that was a lie, but still. I couldn't believe how vengeful our 'sweet' Lily had become._

_Alice leaned back slightly and comprehension mixed with humiliation dawned on her. Lily took a deep breath, ignoring her friend's reaction and looked back down at her plate, playing with some potatoes._

_I glanced at James, to see his eyes widening and that stupid grin forming on his face as he stared at the redhead. I rolled my eyes. He was probably drooling by now._

_He had obviously appreciated Lily's passionate defence just as much as I had. Just as much as Remus or Peter had..._

_And we really had… we just weren't bonkers over the girl like James was._

_The group of us were uncharacteristically quiet, and I finally shoved a breakfast sausage into my hungry mouth._

_The bench moved slightly and I heard Remus mutter a kind 'good morning.' I lifted my head and saw that the very girl we had been speaking of was sitting on the other side of Remus. I couldn't deny myself a quick once over of her while she couldn't meet my very undeviating appraisal._

_She was rifling through her bag, letting her pale hands seek a certain sheet of parchment among her folders. Her robes were clasped shut and her hair – shining in the morning light – was pulled into a French braid that fell loosely over one shoulder. I had come to notice that her hair was always wickedly falling out of place, and this morning was no exception, tendrils, predictably, fell into her scarred face._

_"Rubbish class," I heard her mutter to herself or Remus. Sometimes it was as if she were never really speaking for anyone's benefit, nor her own. Almost as if she did it to keep the ability to speak._

_Remus chuckled warmly as I watched with an odd feeling taking hold as he scooped some of his eggs on to her plate. "Which class is that, may I ask?"_

_She looked up at my fair-haired friend – scowling. "Divination."_

_He nodded slowly in agreement, and tilted his head while she polished off her plate with a few bites. "Couldn't take another class?" he asked her._

_Those unruly locks that framed her face stirred with her sigh. "No. I arrived here too late to qualify for choice classes." She frowned. "I would much rather fail an interesting class than pass this stupid one."_

_James suddenly found his voice. "Stupid?" he cried. "You stare at some crystal ball and pretend to see something dire! For marks!" His wild hair contributed to his manic description of Professor Aida's class._

_He was right though. The old bat was due for a replacement but I'm sure she'd had to die off reciting some bogus prophecy before Dumbledore would ever consider hiring someone else. None the less, her fragile-minded antics provided James, Peter, Remus and I with ample entertainment._

_I watched as Rowan tossed her hair slightly, and smirked into her juice goblet. "Slacker."_

_James winked, leaning over me to give her a proper response. "Cheeky, aren't we? Not even a week in and you're making assumptions. Unfounded ones at that."_

_Remus snorted in disbelief as he pulled a textbook from his bag to review before class. Rowan began to read over his shoulder, and he barely flinched as she pointed to a small passage._

_I pulled my eyes away from her, to see that Lily had lost her blotchy look and she was smiling at Rowan. Little did Rowan know that the girl had just fought tool and nail for her.._

_"You're right on both accounts, Rowan. Divination is rubbish and James is actually a slacker," Lily laughed, as the brunette looked up from the heavy book and began to tap her fingers on the table. A faint smile barely touched her lips, but it was there none the less._

_"Be forewarned though," I heard a very complacent-sounding Alice pop into the conversation, "Professor Aida is batty – absolutely off her rocker."_

_I felt a flare of irritation. How could she talk to her after insulting her for being hurt? I glowered slightly, and saw Remus look up from his textbook long enough to give Alice a pointed look. Rowan was practically one of us with the frequency she hung around us – we wouldn't let Alice screw around._

_Rowan cocked her eyebrow and took Alice's advice without a word._

_I smirked and allowed myself to meet Rowan's eyes._

_Blue, so very blue. _

_"Yes well…" I drawled out, in an attempt to push Alice out of the idea that she could chat Rowan up just now. "Isn't it a requirement for the Divination teacher to be a nutter?"_

_The Marauders laughed, as did Alice and Lily._

_But I was waiting for her._

_She had a nice laugh – I had realized that while a rat-like creature had ravaged my hand. A breathless, throaty and loud… but not too loud… a full laugh._

_Then it came softly from her mouth, a tumbling muted peal. Not quite as potent as before, but all the same, I smiled wide at her._

_Remus nudged her arm with his textbook. "We have Charms now. Divination is after lunch, so we can have a good nap on a full stomach."_

_She rolled her eyes. Maybe she knew that Moony couldn't nap in any classes, being the good student he was. She got up to leave as Remus rose, shoving the book into his khaki-green satchel – I followed suit._

_I felt my eyes glide over her torso and her tiny body in its entirety._

_Was she really as battered as Alice said? _

_"Sirius?" Remus called. I nodded and noticed Rowan join me by my side, as we left the Great Hall. She kept up with my long strides quiet easily._

_She seemed troubled… or.. thinking… again. _

_Her stark face had that wondrous indication of deep thought. Sharing classes with her had familiarized me with the expression – those blue eyes alight, those plush lips pulled together and an unsettling array of scars in full view on her frowning forehead._

_Sickeningly interesting._

_"You alright?" I asked quietly._

_Very smooth, Black._

_I wanted to kick myself in the head. Or at least get hit by a bludger._

_She looked up at me with those swirling blue eyes. "Did something happen before I arrived today?"_

_I didn't mean to, but I threw her an anxious look. Too damn observant she was, or maybe it was all because up until she showed up here, I had been exceptionally unobservant._

_I glanced at her, and felt the burning sensation of her eyes once more, then looked away. She was still wearing that look._

_I remained quiet as we walked up the stairs to Flitwick's class, and a few feet in front of us, Remus cocked his head – obviously listening in._

_"Alice being Alice," I answered finally. It wasn't sufficient I knew that much but I didn't want to bother her… nor did I want to poke the sleeping dragon._

_She nodded, features darkening. "I see."_

* * *

"Sirius?"

I jumped.

Thoughts disjointed from my reverie, and I turned, scrambling around from where I sat on the couch, and off to the right near a slouchy armchair, she stood.

She looked… more present. Her eyes weren't glazed anymore – they had welcomed back their usual piercing quality. The sweat seemed to have been washed from her face – but her hair was as wild was ever.

"Hi," I said softly, shifting so I faced her.

She appraised me for a moment, looking quite confused. Then she let her brow smooth out, as if she hadn't the energy to be confused or to ask questions.

Yes, I watched her as she watched me. She did look drained – great pools of darkness beneath her bright eyes. Her body though, it could never be tired, not even in the way she plopped down in the very dark burgundy armchair that was so big it looked as though it could swallow her. No, she didn't 'plop down' as other people did. In her nightclothes, I saw every tense muscle stay tense, a careful movement. Her arms shifting and her stomach curling, so that she finally sat in a cat-like position, legs pulled towards her, ready to spring.

"What are you doing here?" Rowan's voice sounded so scratchy.

_From screaming… _

I shrugged, and looked down to tug at a string that was unravelling on one of the cushions. "Stayed up."

"Why?"

I looked up, and now, her head was cocked, letting that chocolate hair spill into her lap.

I swallowed and let myself be controlled by her imploring eyes. "To make sure you got in here all right."

She made a soft non-committal noise in the back of her throat and stared into the flames. Eyes mirroring the inferno – whether it was the one if the fireplace, or the one inside her. I did not know.

She laughed, in a painful sort of manner. Not the one I had tried to coax out of her for days. "Now, Alice is going to think I'm a proper screw up."

Surprised, I leaned towards her, despite her not looking at me. "You knew?'

She knew even with me being stupid enough to keep it from her? She knew simply from how we acted at breakfast?

She smirked bitterly at the flames. "Of course I did. She almost vomited when I took my shirt off last night."

I nodded, that made sense. She was observant, I had said so myself. I wondered if she was hurt that Alice was repulsed by something that she had no idea about… yet the way she watched the fireplace, gave nothing away.

I still watched her. It wasn't as hard now, to watch her. The flames seemed to magnify her wounds. It wasn't so hard here in private. She couldn't call me out on fixating on her in front of everyone. I was safe to watch her here.

She turned her head, and met my gaze.

A freezing stillness came over me…

Before I looked away.

You see, I think I have mentioned, I think my mind had explained how awkward worked for me. It was always easy with other people, but when it happened to me.

I didn't know what to do.

This, for me, having her catch me drinking her in so… obviously… it was painfully awkward.

I cringed inwardly.

How do you remedy this? This awkwardness?

_Humour…? _

"So…" I broke the silence, in what seemed to be a strained teasing tone. "Who's Flynn? A boyfriend?"

Immediately, I knew I had done something seriously wrong.

The air of the room, the atmosphere seemed to compress around me, and when I dared to look up I was greeted with the full force of Rowan's eyes.

They were flinty. The coldest blue I had ever encountered, and her lashes framed them so that you were pulled into the whirlpools of cerulean tundra.

I felt my eyes widen with just how much I had done wrong, and I opened my mouth to apologize… to just say something? Where was my way with words? Where was my inner poet when I needed him?

A range of emotions crossed her face – each as unidentifiable as the other.

Then a mask.

A cool mask, that placed her mouth into a straight line and her eyes into a still piercing, yet muted blue.

Damn it.

_No. _

_She couldn't just pull away now. _

"Rowan - "

Her eyes grew more piercing, and whatever words I had were lost.

"No. Not a boyfriend. He was my brother."

With her words, a tightening spread in my chest, and I knew, with a sinking, spreading feeling that this was very bad.

She got up quickly, her feet hitting the floor without a sound, and she turned away from me – walking up to the dormitories where she had suffered such vivid nightmares – looking as unaffected as ever.

Maddeningly solemn with that flick of her long, bedraggled hair and the careful set to her tiny shoulders.

_I had just crossed a line._

Yes, there was a line and I had breached it without knowing. Without understanding the gravity of my words.

She was full of these lines, drawn all around her in invisible ink.

But me? Someone with no regards for thresholds, for privacy, was suddenly _very_ afraid, _very_ sorry that he had violated them.

I rubbed my face tiredly, and settled deeper into the couch.

A sinking feeling.

One I could only identify as guilt.

Pure guilt.

* * *

**A\N: Bit of an idiot, isn't he? At least **_**I**_** think so. Besides that, thank you all for reading, and as always, feel free to express your thoughts in the form of a review or a private message! Have a lovely day!**


	12. Chapter 12

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Twelve - **

**- Rowan Hanely - **

* * *

I raised the axe over my head, and the rippling and tearing feeling in the muscles of my shoulder blades felt like relief rather than pain. It was exertion – and loveliest of all? It was _distraction_.

A log lay ready to be split on a rather gnarled stump. It almost looked vulnerable – but still my arms were poised to strike, and I knew my expression most have been quite a sight. Blank as ever, but with my eyes focused on that one little piece I needed to hack apart. I lacked finesse, though. It took forever to get a nice clean cut – despite my strength that came from so much training. These were trees from a distinctly magical forest – they weren't supposed to be easy to slice up.

But I suppose, my anger, my humiliation and the odd, dull ache of in my chest gave me some kind of _force_ – it made my job much easier… and much more enjoyable.

I launched the blunt edge of the axe towards the log, grinding my teeth together and ignoring the sweat that made my hair stick to the nape of my neck and my dirtied button up shirt stick to my spine.

_Why…_

The axe landed in the grooves of the wood – splitting it slightly.

_was…  
_  
I lifted the axe, completing the motion once more.

_I…  
_  
I ripped the blade out, tugging at it carelessly.

_so…  
_  
I huffed and raised the axe again…

_stupid?_

I launched it down with a hard 'thwack'.

The log split with an efficient snap of the fibres that had once held the tree limb together, and into two halves, which tumbled from the stump I had launched my assault towards.

It was almost anguish to know there was no wood left to split. Hagrid had left me to my own devices once he saw me splitting the wood he had left out to cut later in the day, (presumably on his own) with wild abandon. I had eaten at a ridiculously early time in an attempt to avoid the Hogwarts populace, and went out to walk in the morning fog of the grounds – now the sun had evaporated any trace of mysterious vapour, and the autumn sun bared down on me. The grounds were scattered with students, enjoying the beautiful day – and soft calls and laughter met my ears.

But I didn't join them.

I needed to keep doing _something_.

I didn't want to think about my dreams, about the blunder that had kicked off this weekend…

The way Sirius' eyes had widened with… what? Regret?

I felt a spasm of anger towards him, but… more so with myself. I was not truly angry with him… it wasn't his fault really. I was the one who had awoken the whole Common Room…

I scowled down at the lumpy stump before me, axe still in my sweaty grip.

What good was it to be a witch when you were incompetent? When you couldn't remember to cast something so simple as a Silence Charm.

A simple, '_silencio_'?

Nope.

No can do.

Not when you're me, and you're absolutely losing your touch.

I was supposed to be proficient, damn it.

I had been proficient as a _profession_, and here I was, a damn schoolgirl, blubbering.

I couldn't blubber along through this.

I… I had to chin up. Yes, that's exactly what my mum would have told me. Dad would have been more lenient… hugging me and telling me, '_even a proper Hanely needs a bit of a cry, little Rowan_.'

But I could not believe, how much it had _hurt_.

No amount of telling myself that I had to take deep breaths, and grit my teeth, and quit brooding – could change how my mind had so inadvertently betrayed me with that nightmare.

It had caused this inhuman _twisting _that took my breath away even in the dream-realm I had been trapped in.

I had seen my little brother, my wonderful, incredible, too honest, too pure… _Flynn_… in a very airy, damp place. It smelt like dust and the air was so painfully cold, that I shivered – it seemed as though it were the wee hours of the morning – some seeping dew dampening my socks.

He looked up at me, so confused… His face darkened in the shadows of this cold, cold world.

"_What happened, Rowan?_"

I shook my head, as I heard his soft, naïve voice.

"_I don't know… I miss you…_"

He looked so jumbled up, and he touched my hand, and I could barely feel him. The coldness seeping my bones.

"_You're warm, Row…_"

I had smiled. "_Really?_"

He looked betrayed again. "_But I'm so cold. Why are you warm?_"

I began to shake, gripping his hand in mine. "_I don't know… I can't explain it…_"

Flynn's sapphire eyes began to fill with tears. "_But… I want to be warm too… Why can't I be warm?… Please…_"

I caressed his cheek, and felt just how frigid he was, my stomach dropped, and I felt hot tears betray me.

"_Flynn…_"

He looked so angry, and he gripped my hands fiercely, I tried to tug away as his cold nails dug into my skin.

"_Make me warm again._"

I shuddered, shocked at his words. "_Oh… Flynn. I'm sorry. So sorry. Please… Please let me go…_"

But he wouldn't, he grew colder and colder, begging me, asking me why, he wasn't warm… and I held him close, but I couldn't make him warm… I couldn't… Until finally… I felt a seeping warmth…

I went on, I promised him, I cried into his hair as he was tucked under my chin. I knew I couldn't live without this – giving him that warmth I had so selfishly possessed.

And it felt moist, disgustingly familiar – that warmth.

I had looked down, my eyes widening with sheer pain at having to _feel _this way again, and saw my dead brother, in my dream, bleeding all over my nightclothes… His blood, disconcertingly scorching, against me.

I felt the axe shaking in my hand at the memory if my dream…

It was bad enough to retell the tale to Dumbledore and see his face go slack at my description. He was a comfort though, that night – he was a strange rock to lean on. A tall, astute, colourful- robed rock that let me wash my face in his sink and tell my story. Not even raising his eyebrows when I shook so hard that I spilled the tea he handed me all over his desk.

He had simply said after a gap, a strange silence after my relay of the night's events within the confines of my mind: "I too know the bond between siblings, but you mustn't let Flynn hold you like he did tonight – and you mustn't hold _yourself_ responsible, as I'm sure you do always."

Those words didn't exactly make sense to me.

I didn't really hold myself responsible.

I mean, I didn't point my wand and kill him.

No – those disgusting excuses for wizards did that… but there were many things I failed to do.

Run _faster…_

Move _quicker… _

Hold him _closer…  
_  
But I'd failed to do those things with Willow too.

I'd failed both my siblings…

But despite that… _heavy_, impossibly heavy, failure I'd confessed, those were the only words he'd said to me about the dream.

Perhaps, they were all that was needed.

What he had advised afterwards was that I needed was a technique to let me fall asleep, to sleep better, and maybe even sleep without a Silence Charm at some point. He seemed to echo my thoughts apropos to dealing with things, when he said: "You must train, Rowan. Your body is used to pushing itself physically, and that absence discomfits it."

My first thought had been played out in a mocking, pained tone in my mind: '_I wake my whole House, screaming like I'm touched in the head, and you tell me to exercise?_'

But instead my words had been soft, and halfhearted as I curled into the chair before his great desk. I shivered tremendously – remembering the odd place my dream-world had taken me to and trapped me in. I heard Fawkes make a soft noise of concern from his perch behind me, when my voice came out as a scratchy rasping noise. "With all due respect sir, I can't exactly run laps around the corridors in the dead of the night, can I?"

Dumbledore had given me that look which I'm sure I would never understand, not even when I had familiarized myself with him for weeks. The great wizard smiled slyly and got that twinkle in his pearly blue eyes. "No, you cannot. Not as a human, and certainly not within the corridors… But I seem to remember a certain pact we had about not mentioning your rather… canine family history?"

I managed to give him a scowl. "My form? My Animagus form?"

He chuckled. "I said nothing of the kind. I'm just making a polite _suggestion._"

Suggestion?

_Right._

The Headmaster had just granted me the permission to frolic as a timber wolf across the grounds.

I didn't exactly turn him down either.

I had nodded, and shifted in my seat to look up at the stars that twinkled through his high windows, until he had softly said that perhaps I should go and try to sleep…

I didn't sleep, not well, not properly… not after Sirius' lively grey eyes had been clouded with something that I couldn't identify.

It was shameful, really. The whole thing was shameful, and I'm sure I had the right to feel this humiliated.

How would… the Marauders see me?

How would Sirius see me?

I wondered if he had registered the word 'was'.

_"No. Not a boyfriend. He was my brother."_My words echoed like my mind had cliffs, and I had been shouting those words from the very peaks, until my lungs collapsed.

It had betrayed too much – that simple sentence.

I, myself, had betrayed too much that night.

They would probably behave so oddly around me now._  
_  
Not that I cared…

I didn't care if they liked me or how they acted with me, really.

I just didn't want to be seen as weak…

But I probably wasn't even seen as weak in their eyes… or the eyes of the rest of the Gryffindors… Just a nutcase.

I flipped the axe in my palm.

Lily didn't seem too afraid… just worried. I owed her one, for not scampering down to the Common Room when I had almost strangled myself in the sheets. She was… very loyal. I respected that.

Loyalty – was that all that it came down to? What was there, in your relationships, if not for loyalty?

I would, and I had always said this, be eternally loyal to some people.

A flash of Willow pulling me up from a particularly tough training session, and rubbing the kinks out of my muscles, and I did the same for her.

Flynn, showing me his drawings, and later I showed him a nice tripping jinx…

My mom and dad gazing at each other fiercely one night – whispering desperately about 'going on the run – keeping us all safe – staying _together_'.

I smoothed the edge of the axe, the metal feeling at my fingertips sending that resounding metallic shudder down my spine.

_Together?  
_  
I felt a small bitter bubble of amusement accumulate in my hollow chest.

I was on the edge of a forest; at a school I was never supposed to go to… very much _alone._

Another giddy laugh erupted somewhere upon the grounds of Hogwarts – echoing slightly because of the rolling hills and the presence of that immense lake. A carefree giggle that pierced my spiralling thoughts, and the heavy autumn air of this could-be Indian summer.

I turned my head away from the sound, loosening my harsh grip on the axe, and feeling the slight tickling of strands un-sticking from the nape of my neck. My eyes, focused now on the Forbidden Forest, where no calls of laughter came – just calm.

Its coolness.

The flutters of life in the folds of darkness beneath the cover of dying leaves.

Sunlight streaming through the branches high above to create disjointed patterns across the earth.

The moisture of moss on the roots that made jagged paths – mountains – across the trail.

A far, far cry from the school that was built next to it.

But, it wasn't really the school, that lacked peace – more so the occupants… or… myself.

_I_ lacked peace.

I took a few, tentative steps into the Forest, letting leaves from last year's autumn, and this one's crunch under my hide boots.

At once, I groaned.

The trees near the trail, had been hacked at by Hagrid – various limbs removed to be chopped up for firewood – and which I had attended to, myself. He of course, had left the trees gaping, and dripping sap – the tree's blood.

My father had always called my mother, 'mental', when she would take her wand and mend the bark of the trees we cut while on our travels – our little 'camping trips', back together, but I firmly believe in what she said.

She had explained that they were living things, that, yes they fixed themselves up with the tree sap – and being magical, they had an obvious upper-hand than other trees… but it wouldn't do any harm to fix them… after we had taken a piece of them.

In a way, it was comical. The way my mum would take the liberty to send a nice slashing hex at whomever we were after, but couldn't bear to leave a tree, or an animal unattended. Even horses in fields… when we happened by. We'd take so much time to stop, approach them, and gently remove the rocks lodged in their hooves or apply a charm so the flies would stay away.

So when I smelled the sweet scent of tree sap, and spotted the bare skins – the innards – the light fibres… I immediately fished my wand out of the pocket of my grimy grey jeans.

Gently tapping each tree, each marked surface – I smiled at the thought my mum might be happy I continued her little tree-hugger activity – the bark reforming, and the sap glistening like a bandage over each former 'wound'.

I went deeper into the Forest, casually holding the axe in one hand, and my wand in the other. Touching each of the ex-limbs, and letting the distant cries of laughter grow duller.

The air felt cool – and the gentle crunches of leaves and twigs were a much more suited melody, than that of the thwacking of the axe through the wood.

My hair didn't stick to me, but floated in the breeze that swished between the trees, my shoulders relaxed and I felt my eyes flutter closed with calm at times…

Then I heard a soft huff, and the distinctive swish of a tree branch being moved.

Barely a noise to be bothered with, if you were anyone else – but I swivelled – wand drawn, to stare at a mass of bushes.

_Maybe a Thestral? They were quiet beasts and they -_

"Only so much wood you can cut, love… I know it clears the mind, but – wait, Rowan, where are ye? ROWAN!" Hagrid's booming voice carried much more than the ridiculous laughter down by the lake, and even from the depths of the Forest, I could hear how frantic he was. I could almost picture him, looking wildly around the front of his hut.

Nevermind, the huff then…

"I'm over here!" I called, voice rasping horribly, even when I cupped my mouth to project my affirmation. I grimaced and touched my throat.

I really did wish my voice would get back to normal… Not that I said much, but all the same… It was nice to know you could talk when it was needed…

A great sound of logs snapping, and the trail being tread upon was heard, and soon Hagrid's bearded face was in full view – plastered with worry.

"What are ye' doing all the way in here?" He said, his voice filled with the most sincere anxiousness. I wanted to smile, he was just so kind to everyone…

"I wanted to fix up the trees… It was something I used to do…"

_When I wasn't here, you know, with my family…_

The sentence was very much unfinished.

Hagrid nodded, and I felt for a moment, a bit of relief, and knowing that someone could comprehend, when sentences didn't really need to be finished. Yet, he still wore a very prominent frown, and his beetle-black eyes glinted. "I understand, but Rowan, don't go wandering into the forest without me, ye hear? It's not very safe, even for me sometimes. There's different territories – and we might not know of 'em, but the rest of the creatures out here do."

I nodded slowly.

He smiled. "I'm thinkin' of getting' a dog some time. Ye' know, to come in here with a partner…"

It'd have to be a huge dog. I could not, for the life of me, imagine Hagrid with some pipsqueak Corgi.

"Hmmmmm," I said absently, as I pointed at another hacked up tree, "what breed?"

I saw him practically quiver with excitement. "A Boarhound. Big loyal brutes they are…"

I fought back a smirk. _Of course… What a Gryffindor sort of dog…  
_  
"Anyways, fancy a cuppa? You cut most of the wood for me, missy. Least I can do for ye. Tell me about yer week hmm? What classes you like?"

I turned at his flurry of booming questions, to give him a half-smile, and he began to walk along the path, nice and slow – so that his grand strides wouldn't leave me far behind.

"Alright, Hagrid. Just for a bit though – I need to look up some things on Potions in the library later…" I muttered. It was true; I had no clue what in the world a hare's leg would give to a potion. Unless it was something for luck…

I shook my head slightly – ridding the confusion I was so unfamiliar with, and saw Hagrid laugh quietly, and give me a very serious look.

"Potions eh? I'm ruddy terrible at it, I'll have ye know…" He said sternly, as if this would definitely alleviate the fears that I was the only one muddled up in the subject.

He could certainly make me feel better – Rubeus Hagrid…

I slowly walked up the trail, pricking my way across the roots with him, until we came to his hut, the wood now piled near his house to become heat for the winter… My rolled up sleeves were probably filled with little bits of wood, and my jeans, were obviously as dirty as ever.

I was tired, from that work.

Yet my steps felt less heavy than they had all weekend…

I was doing as Dumbledore had told me to – as I had told myself to do – to not wallow and let it overtake me.

Laughs erupted upon the grounds, and unlike before, I turned my head, to see a very familiar group of people lying in the slowly yellowing grass.

Alice, was the one who was laughing… Tilting her round face back, as she clutched stomach. With a boy, a stocky one I didn't know – Frank, maybe?

Remus, James, Peter and Lily were all circled under a tree – lazily flicking their wands at books, or in James' case a paper airplane that seemed determined to get away from him. Peter watched, laughing in a squeaky fashion as James swore at it – making Remus snicker while he read. Lily, of course, studiously ignored them, her beautiful red hair falling into her face, while she poured over some text.

I searched, in an almost unintentional fashion, for the handsome teenager, who had so thoroughly caught me off guard, who had forced me to admit that Flynn Hanely _was_ my brother… That he had been… That he wasn't now….

And he was the only one, out of the group, who sat, sitting up straight, staring directly at me – and even from far away, I saw his creased brow and his mouth set into a firm line. Dark, black hair falling into his eyes, glinting in the sunlight that fell upon his face because he had lifted himself from the shade of the tree to watch me, nearly blinded by the sunlight that fell upon his features, and those eyes only perceived as light specks of a grey sky from here.

"Rowan, ye' comin?"

I looked away from Sirius, to see Hagrid smiling at me from his doorstep, a giant hand holding it open so I could make my way inside.

"Yeah, I could really use a cup of tea. Thank you, Hagrid."

And it was true – a nice drink to quell the multitude of things that simply would not still themselves in my mind; a mix of past and present.

I scampered quickly into the Hagrid's home, that smelled of quilts, horrible baking and a distinctly comforting scent, – and gently shut the door on the sunny grounds outside, and turned my back on Sirius' probing gaze.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a review, and of course, have a good day!**


	13. Chapter 13

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Thirteen - **

**- Sirius Black - **

* * *

"Defence…" our newest professor flicked his wand towards a stub of chalk so that the word was scrawled across the vast blackboard with an odd squeak. "Against…The…Dark…Arts."

He turned to our class of sixth years who, from what I could see, watched him with a mix of scepticism, and snarkiness. His hair was an odd salt-and-pepper, and his eyes were a dark, unremarkable brown. He, of course, had chosen conservative, stuck up and very boring tawny robes – which were pristine other than the random patches of chalk from where he'd wiped his hands a couple times.

Like any new teacher - and, obviously we all knew he wouldn't be a new teacher for long, he had the Defence slot, after all – he watched us carefully. Very unsure, and antsy.

I smirked at him involuntarily.

He was just so eager… How… _Hufflepuff _of him.

Kind of an old Hufflepuff though…

Middle-aged, nearing that point where you are officially recognized as an old guy.

Again, his eyes roamed over the class, searching for some spark of excitement, and they settled for a moment on Rowan…

A flash of shame and discomfort flashed through me, causing my stomach to twist with guilt.

She, of course, wasn't sitting anywhere near me.

Not that I could blame her…

The others might have thought it was due to our even numbers, that she wasn't sitting with us – rather, that she wasn't sitting to the left of me, with Dorcas Meadows – but I knew that she just didn't want to have to endure me shifting uncomfortably when she gave me the coldest shoulder I had ever received. And this was from a Black who was sorted into Gryffindor, no less. I had received plenty of cold shoulders from a pretty fair amount of family members, who were sort of horrified to find out they were related to a Gryffindor. Yet, Rowan managed to out-do them…

Yes, she'd much rather sit towards the front with… _Snape._

Now, that was more than a cold-shoulder, right there. The action of sitting with that complete pile of disgusting Slytherin garbage was more like the rude hand gesture I got in most Quiddich playoff matches - considering I was a Beater, and I enjoyed knocking people off their brooms.

I stared at the back of Snape's greasy black head, while he said something to her out of the corner of his mouth, and she nodded, head moving in just the slightest inclination. Personally, I just wanted to chuck something at that stupid oily skull of his. Slimy _git._

My fingers twitched slightly, towards my pocket, wondering what would happen if a wand were thrown at someone's head… Would it light on fire? Or cause them to spontaneously combust?

Oh, the options, they were endless, weren't they?

Again, Rowan moved slightly in her seat, to grab her quill, and the tiny movement, made the Slytherins seated all around her throw her a glare, as if her being there, and making any sudden motion, was quite unforgivable. None the less she didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't care much, because from what I saw – she stayed as rigid and neutral as always.

It was quite odd – her being the one Gryffindor in a sea of Slytherins.

A sliver of me wondered how much heat Snape might be taking for it… especially after everything that went down with Evans, just last year, but the rest of me was rather focused on the girl, who was intent on ignoring me, and who so happened to be seated beside the sickly little sadist over there.

Some time over the week or so she hadn't spoken with me, the rest of her uniform had come in… and now she was immersed in Gryffindor colours; a gold and deep red tie fastened at her neck in a secure fashion, the white blouse and a scarlet cardigan which set off the wildness of her dark waves that fell across her back in a sloppy sort of ponytail.

Yep, our house suited her. Baggy uniform trousers, scars and piercing blue eyes – the whole package – it simply suited her.

Not that I could really tell her.

Nor… do I think I would.

I mean, I'm not bad with women – but she… well, she was a bit odd, no?

It wasn't me. It _couldn't_ be me…

I'm _smooth_… it was definitely her, and all her… _standoff-ish attitude._

I crossed my arms, as if to solidify my statement to myself, then saw that the professor's eyes were still locked on Rowan, in an odd, speculative way…

I waited for it, and she… delivered.

I could see her cheek twitch and an eyebrow come up to ask the older teacher a very blunt question without saying a word.

It was spelled out all over her stony face, and the way she held her quill so fiercely: _'what the hell do you want?' _

The professor quickly moved his gaze away from Rowan's impassive face and I heard James snigger beside me.

He obviously, could laugh all he wanted at this, because Rowan was talking to him.

She was talking with everyone really – perhaps, a little less than before, but James was not exempt from her attention as I was. Remus, was treated as he was treated before, and Lily as well. Perhaps even with a little less coldness… She didn't say much to Alice – common courtesies, and Peter recieved the same.

Me?

Well, I didn't exist.

So, I could feel a bit of compassion for this unknown professor. I knew how very… well, how could I put this… _harsh _the receiving end of Rowan's distaste was, and James didn't. Which was why, I didn't even smirk when I saw the professor move away from the tiny brunette in a timely fashion…

He had to be the first though…The other teachers left her alone mostly – if only to commend her on _'excellent work'_. Maybe, it was under Dumbledore's instruction that they treat her no differently. McGonagall and Slughorn were the only exceptions. McGonagall, found her to be quite the Gryffindor, always giving her that strained smile. Slughorn, seemed keen on getting her as a collector's item, for reasons beyond me. It was a wonder he noticed anyone else while he was fawning over Lily in our Potions class, anyway.

The new Defence professor started to pace, and we all watched him carefully as a flush built up in his ruddy cheeks.

"I am Professor Duncan, and I will be teaching you this art." His eyes twinkled and his robes clashed with the muddy depths of his gaze.

_Art?_ My mind echoed.

_Dark Magic an art? _

I felt stifled suddenly, as if I had been trapped back in my room at Grimmauld place.

A few Slytherins nodded approvingly but for the most part confused murmurs were erupting amongst the class. The guy wasn't supposed to commend it. He was supposed to hate the Dark Magic that we'd come to know so well in the past few years…

How could he call the source of that activity, an art?

_How dare he?  
_  
He sounded just like my cousins… my brother…

Snape, even. Seeing as Snape was _'friends' _with Regulus.

I settled my red-tinted gaze on Snape, who of course had a sneer of appreciation on his beaky face.

Rowan, well she had looked a bit steely. If it was from her encounter with the teacher, or what he was saying – I had no clue. But she didn't look very happy.

Not that she was an ecstatic person or anything – but still.

The teacher, Duncan, watched us react to his words with avid fascination. He grinned – showing a set of straight, yet tea-stained teeth. Then, suddenly, he shook his hand at us – wagging his finger in some form of admonishment for being so damn confused.

I think my blood was boiling.

Of course we were confused for Merlin's sakes. He was condoning the bloody Dark Arts that had become the bane of my existence, and British wizards everywhere! Hadn't he taken notice of the upturn in Dark activity? I mean, I wasn't ignorant, I read the papers… It was evident that something was building, something with the Dark Arts and we had this idiot preaching about it on the first day of class…

I felt my fingers dig into the wood of the desk.

Yet again, the Black temper was getting the best of me.

"Padfoot…" I heard James murmur, with worry staining his tone.

I shot him an exasperated glance. He of all people should have known how utterly aggravating this was to me. I had enough of this propaganda bullshit at home. I really didn't need it at my home away from home.

"What is this arse getting at?" I hissed towards my best friend.

Remus who sat on the other side of me shrugged, but I caught the flash of concern in his tired light eyes.

I looked to the front of the glass with a slight click of my tongue. Duncan, had settled that amused gaze on me.

I wanted to hex him.

A small, more _Remus-like _part of my brain had taken control with that hazardous thought, with a slight peep of: _'you know, hexing your new defence teacher is rather idiotic, Sirius!'_

So, yeah, me being the fantastic me, I scowled at the git with the teaching title.

"Now you must understand what I mean by art…" he started in that snooty voice of his, releasing my gaze to roll the long sleeves of his robes.

Yes, he should probably explain.

I _hated_ Dark Magic.

I hated how it was used.

I hated how my family used it, to ensure their proper ideals. Pureblooded lies, enforced with pain and terror…

"It's an art, because the people who use it aren't just reciting spells… they have intent. A dark intent. Just as an artist has an intent to impact the audience. Just as users of Dark Magic to impact… using fear, pain or death. They do not restrict their minds. They do not restrict their morals. This… yes…" I watched, in a slight feeling of awe, as Duncan looked dismayed, "this might let them have unimaginable power over those that do have morals, I will not deny that."

The whole class was very still. I let out a slightly surprised huff, and the middle-aged professor looked at each of us for a long moment.

"But I am hoping that you all have morals… because it is something that no true Dark Wizard has. It is your advantage," he said to us quietly, but with such passion, I knew that it was the sole reason Dumbledore had chosen him to fill this teaching position.

Professor Duncan held a small portion of our Headmaster's charisma, but it still went a long way.

That is, until a series of muffled laughs disguised as coughs came from the Slytherin group.

They were the only ones who laughed… We had all misjudged the bloke – and badly, at that. But, I think that maybe that was exactly what he had wanted us to all do.

Blimey, he was freakishly brilliant, in some off way.

He wanted us to react, to feel… And – the cogs whirred in my normally vastly lazy mind – our reactions would prove what the Dark 'Arts' were to us: a threat, a ticket to glory, or in my case… a part of my life I hated so deeply that the back of my neck burned with a familiar fury.

He clapped his hands against some Slytherin weasel's desk in the front row – breaking my deep thoughts into a shattering pile of confusion. It was always funny to be in that state of confusion – where you know, you were sort of mad, because you had been mad before, but you knew, that, well, there was no real reason to be mad. But you still felt a bit of that adrenaline from being so pissed before, so it had somehow translated itself into anxiousness.

Yeah, a bit confusing, for me, at least. I over worked my brain a little at times. But with useless things, like my psychological trip ups.

"We will be reviewing a lot this year… to make sure you're up to date and that you can tack on NEWT level knowledge to your previous lessons…" He had lost his deeply convinced, sycophantic and devout tone and now sounded crisp and professional… a real professor if there ever was one. "So, dark creatures, previous hexes, jinxes and curses… And," the man grinned, after having counted off the subject matter on his fingers, "we'll be duelling on a regular basis."

Gasps, cries of glee and excited cheers came from both houses within the room. It was probably the only moment I've ever remembered where both the Slytherins and us Gryffindors agreed on something…

_Hmph_, I frowned, their motives were much different than ours, no doubt.

But still, I felt a tad, a fraction; a bit of my rage dissipate into a grudging awe.

I had to admit, this bloke was… cool.

I heard a rather girlish squeal come from beside me. "YES! FINALLY! I GET TO HEX SOMEONE FOR MARKS!" James yelped happily.

I barked out a laugh, and Remus chuckled, looking as flushed and happy as he could be this time of the month. Peter seemed content, if not a little worried… perhaps at the thought of the jinxes he might be at the receiving end of. He was never a fighter, Peter. Lily, who sat with Alice seemed excited to flaunt her skills in yet another class, and Alice just seemed as smug and happy as the rest of the class.

It might have been a little mean, but I was looking forward to giving a good space of time to exercise spells that had only read about in textbooks, year after year, recited by the droning voice of Defence teacher, after Defence teacher. They had never let us duel. They described 'Defence', and threw us an occasional Boggart. They didn't do anything… seriously practical… I mean, in some ways, but… for a guy like me, it just didn't feel like I was doing much.

I looked around the class, and everyone seemed to have suddenly been put into good spirits on their first day of Defence. No one scowled at the new teacher anymore… they either chatted animatedly with their neighbours or made haughty comments such as the rubbish I was hearing Damen Flint spout out: "I am going to completely ace the duelling, I'm telling you…"

_Yeah. Goodluck there, mate.  
_  
The only person who wasn't grinning or smirking in satisfaction… was Rowan.

She was always exempt from the norm, wasn't she?

I let my brow furrow.

She seemed… calm as ever, but with that slight iciness, that… was very unlike her, but could only be seen if you stared at her closely. She stared at her clasped hands, unmoving.

I highly doubt she even noted Snivellus was greasing up his Potions textbook, nose stuck to the pages as he wrote furiously into the margins, and flipped through a bunch of heavily scrawled in sheets, to read through what he had written with eyes that blurred with the speed of his reading.

He seemed pretty excited at the prospect of hexing us Gryffindors – his black eyes were shining as he defaced the old, tattered textbook.

No doubt, the bat was itching to get some curses out.

Stupid dark git… He hadn't even noticed that Rowan wasn't all there.

A single, rather treacherous thought entered my mind: I would have. I would have noticed that she seemed off, and maybe said something that could -

_Oh, could what?_ My mind was snapping at me instantly.

Get her to stop ignoring me?

_Right,_ my vastly sarcastic subconscious laughed.

Besides, I felt, for once, as though I deserved it. Being a nosy Gryffindor had been going just fine until she had decided to show up to be our resident puzzle-to-crack.

I scowled at her mane of dark hair.

_That's it, Sirius. Put the blame on her…  
_  
I scowled even more, but at myself, this time.

Now, I felt the urge to leap up, and walk to the front in a few of the confident strides I knew I possessed, and cheer her up.

Or something like that.

You know, maybe get her to say, _'hello'.  
_  
That would be a start…

But Professor Duncan's voice had cut through the cacophony of the elated class.

"Alright, alright!" He laughed. "Please turn to your books to page twelve for a review of safe duelling conduct in the classroom. You'll see that number one clearly states that there 'should be no permanent damage'. This is the most important part of duelling on amicable level ladies and gentlemen…"

I had opened my book, yes, but my eyes weren't skimming the page eagerly like the rest of my classmates'. I was watching as Rowan looked down at the list with an unfathomably tired expression, then proceeded to drop her head into her hands, letting dark waves pool around her face her eyes hidden in the curtain of chocolate tresses. It was, almost a rare moment of weakness… but the type of thing that could be credited to a sleepless night, or boredom.

But, with Rowan – those things simply weren't evident. Well, they were, I mean she had these awful dark circles on her pale face… But she wasn't the type to sleep in class, or sigh when Professor Binns went on and on…

So, of course, I saw Remus lifting his eyes from the text to watch her too. He was pretty close to her, as of late. So his eyes were filled with the same emotions I probably possessed: worry with a hint of curiosity.

She lifted her head again, to watch the professor explain each rule in detail, but she still looked very drained.

I tapped my fingers against the feathery pages of my book. What could be so appalling about duelling?

My eyes dropped to the text again… Wondering what rules could be unceremoniously bended to my leisure…

I let my eyes glide down the list, much faster than Professor Duncan explained them, and I felt my stomach clench slightly, when I peeked up to check the time on the old clock that sat in the corner… and I saw Rowan staring very blankly at the chalkboard before her.

Her head wasn't even bent to fake that she was reading along with the class – she simply stared at the dusty board, and I could see her profile, slightly – scars as tight as her expression.  
_  
I really… had to talk to her…_

But… I really had no right to…

I raked my hand through my hair. This had to be today's internal dilemma, no? Talk to Rowan, or don't talk to Rowan. Get chewed out, or don't get chewed out. Tough choice.

But I had to make it some time. What better time than now?

The bell tolled, in an odd ominous fashion – well, it felt that way to me, because I was currently dissecting my options – and the class began to shuffle around in their usual dreary fashion in order to stow away their parchment and quills.

I shoved my textbook messily into my knapsack, watching as the tiny brunette I was so torn over, nodded politely to Snape and threw her small khaki bag over one defined shoulder.

It was pretty much now or never…

I jumped up, ignoring the confused calls of James and the gang as I followed Rowan who practically ran from the class, her long ponytail flashing behind her. She moved so quickly I could barely catch up.

"Goodbye class! I look forward to teaching you this year!" Professor Duncan said from several feet behind me. For once, I was practically out the door and the bell hadn't even stopped ringing.

She noticed that she had that straight posture and that grace, that almost made me stop and rethink what I was about to do… Though, I still followed her out into the corridor. Students had barely trickled out of their classes, and the stone hall was less packed than I was used to.

I gritted my teeth, and felt a casual pull of courage as I watched her move farther and farther away.

"Rowan!"

She paused, and her posture went even more rigid… My stomach squeezed slightly. At least she had stopped…

"Could I… talk to you?"

She seemed to weigh out her answer, before I saw that she was turning slowly to face me. Her face was so very shocking to me – the high cheekbones devoid of colour, and her full mouth set into a grim sort of fashion. Her hair was wild around her, and of course, her eyes were the scintillating blue that absolutely scared the living shite out of me… but it thrilled me too.

I took a few tentative steps forward so; I could probably talk to her, without raising my voice in the midst of everyone that was in the process of getting to their next class.

She raised a single, scarred eyebrow at me.

It was almost miraculous, how she was so non-verbal, but she got the message across.

I felt my hand begin to tug self-consciously at the erratic hairs that were always untidy around the tape of my neck. "I was just wondering… if you… were… alright, you know?"

_Merlin. _

Merlin, what the hell was I saying?

I was drowning myself in my own stupidity. It was a stupidity tsunami.

_How… did I come up with these things?_

I cringed, even more deeply than before, when I saw a familiar redhead, accompanied by her round face friend passed by, giving me a scathing look of surprise.

Shit. Evans and Dorty. I was never going to hear the end of this from them…

My cringe, became a full-out wince when I felt the presence of three very familiar people behind me.

James' air of curiosity and impatience, Remus' worry wart aura and Peter being as clueless as always.

Still, Rowan was staring at me with her eyebrow still cocked.

I closed my eyes for a moment, until I started to speak. "I mean, you didn't look so good in Defence. Duncan seemed a bit off his rocker at first… and Snivellus – well he couldn't be very helpful. I mean – you know, because Duncan seemed to single you out. I was just wondering if you were –"

"I'm fine, thank you." Her voice came out, quick as a whip, and her expression hadn't changed a fraction.

I felt like smashing my textbook to my head by the end of it.

I mean, that was completely the definition of progress, right there. And I say that, within the confines of my own mind with the outmost sarcasm I could muster.

She quickly turned away, and I stayed stock still, watching her walk off to lunch, or class… or hell, I didn't know. I was too busy trying to fix up my wounded ego over here…

Moony, came up beside me, and gave me a funny little frown, accompanied by a slight nod of understand, before walking off to catch up with Rowan.

He was a good guy, Remus. I had James to talk to me, before Peter scampered off… Rowan didn't really have anyone – nor did she have the desire to have anyone to talk to, from what I could see.

_Well_, I chuckled internally; _at least she spoke to me? _

I saw my small, chubby friend walk past, and melt into the crowd with a salute. Well, Peter was off to stuff his face… It had to be lunch… He wouldn't run off that fast if it wasn't lunch…

Just James and I left.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and pretty soon a pair of very amused hazel eyes were boring into mine, as he came to stand in front of me, and place both of his hands on my shoulders.

"You were babbling, mate," he told me in an informative fashion, as though I was a rather interesting woodland creature to be observed. "Like a first year who – "

"Had managed to enrage McGonagall? Yeah, I know." I muttered, avoiding James' pressing gaze.

James smirked. " That just isn't like you, Padfoot. Being a blundering idiot?" He made an odd movement with his head, as if he were picking between two different sweets at Honeydukes, bobbing on his feet at the same time. "Now that's different… but correct me if I'm wrong here…But I've noticed you and Rowan haven't said a word to each other all week… and you've been antsy as hell. And, I hate to admit it, but you completely lost your usual silkiness back there…"

I gave him a hard look_. Stupid, observant Prongs. With his quick Chaser-thinking_... _He could stuff it._ _I was going to hit a Bludger to his head during the next Quiddich try-out._

"Wow, James. You're noticing something other than Lily Evan's arse lately?" I said in a mock tone of surprise.

He gave a big smile, before smothering it with a look of being utterly appalled. "I am a gentleman, I'll have you know! I do no such thing to Miss Evans!"

I snorted, mood lifting slightly at my mate's antics. "Yeah, yeah. Don't think she doesn't know about your lack of class."

James waved me off and started to walk through the now sparsely-filled hall. "No matter… The point is that it's terribly awkward between you and Hanely, and I happened to notice it."

I followed him, and gave him an irritated look, as I clipped my book bag closed. "That was your point then?"

He nodded with a pronounced frown, as if I were very slow and needed to be told via body language if I was in the right or not. "Well, yeah."

I wanted to shake him, I loved him like a brother, but he was just… so… well he was _James._ So I was compelled to just answer him. "Prongs, that was an observation more than anything, and it was definitely not a '_point_'." I made quotation marks using my fingers to emphasize the last part of my sentence.

He sighed in what seemed to be some unwarranted exasperation, and pushed the glasses further up on to his nose. "You're starting to sound like Remus. No, not even. Remus and Rowan combined… Look," he continued on in another sigh, "I just think you should talk about whatever happened to make things so… off? Weird?" He wrinkled his nose, and the glasses fell back to their original place. "I mean, I'm helpful sometimes, you know. Maybe talking to her or me about it, could probably fix whatever it is."

I barked out a laugh. "Didn't I just try that?"

James chuckled, before his eyes widened and his face went white, and he turned to me in a quick flash, shoving a finger into my chest. "Did you make a move on her? Traumatize her? I know you find her fit but you can't be such a lecherous – "

_What in the hell. _

"No!" I cried. "Nothing like that! And what do you mean I'm 'lecherous'? How do you even know that word, Prongs?"

James pulled away, fixing his robes in a snobbish fashion and placing his most perfect Lily impression upon his face. "I read, you know."

I snorted. "More like you listen to Moony when he talks about me…"

My best mate shrugged in a good natured way. "A bit, yeah. But… what did you do, then?"

We had finally reached the steps, and we began to climb up to the Tower, to grab our books before getting a bite to eat.

I was… a bit offended, really.

"Why are you automatically assuming it was me, James?"

James rolled his eyes, getting a few disapproving glances from the portraits. The portraits were all stuck up in this corridor, anyway. Probably politicians. "Because you're kind of…" He trailed off, scratching his chin.

"A git?" I answered, letting out a long sigh.

He smiled brightly. "Yes, thank you!"

I raked my hair from my face, and took two stairs at a time to avoid yet another Hogwarts trick step… I mulled over telling James. I mean, would he berate me? Or ask, why exactly I was so weird around her? 'Cause I had no answer for that. She was just… Rowan.

"Delirium," James said quickly, as we came to stand before the Fat Lady – and she nodded, her portrait swinging open with the password.

Upon seeing the very place where I'd thoroughly caused Rowan to hate my guts – the Common Room – I caved in to my best mate's curiosity or concern. A mix, maybe.

Whatever, here went nothing.

"You were right. It _was_ my fault…" I mumbled, as we started up to the boy's dorms.

He turned on the step to raise his eyebrows at me. "Really? I was only taking a guess… so what happened?"

I shrugged, and continued up the steps. "Nothing happened, technically. It was more what was said, you know?"

James' brows furrowed, and he took a few stairs slowly – as if thinking and moving didn't quite go together. "So… you insulted her?"

"No!" I grumbled out in exasperation, tugging my bag strap angrily. "Something just… came out wrong."

He shook his head, confused. "So…?"

I shrugged, resigned, and leaned over to him, as we made our way to the dorm. "You remember that night… when she was having… that nightmare?"

James grimaced slightly at the memory, and I couldn't blame him. "Worst stuff than nightmares, in my opinion… but yeah, I remember. You… stayed up…"

I nodded. "I did – cause I wanted to talk to her, or something."

My friend cocked an eyebrow. "Talk to her or – " he waggled his eyebrows, "_talk to her_, Padfoot?"

I gave him a nasty look, and I pushed open the door to our room, letting him go inside first. "Talk to her as a friend, James. I don't know why you're so convinced that I'm making some crazy plan to corner her and ravish her or something…" Though with those pretty blue eyes she did call for it at times… I shook my head, dispelling those ideas. "It wasn't like that, I serious, mate."

He sat on his bed, rifling through the sheets for random books that might be hiding there, not even glancing up to respond. "Fine, then. If it was friendly, what went wrong?"

I closed the door behind me and took a seat on my bed, rubbing my face tiredly. "Well, the name she kept saying…"

James had stopped his shuffling and straightened to look at me, slightly unnerved. "She kept saying 'Flynn', right?"

I nodded slowly… Feeling the regret and guilt come over me again, as it had often in the past few days. "I, uh, enquired about it."

James looked even more unnerved. "Enquired, Sirius?"

I looked away, sheepishly, and straightened the corner of my scarlet comforter. "Yeah… I asked if, this 'Flynn' bloke was her… boyfriend…"

James groaned and I could practically hear him pinching his brow. "_Bloody hell_… What did she say? Or did she just hex your face off?"

Wow, imagine if she had hexed me in the face? She probably would have taken my head clean off with all that quiet anger…

I fidgeted uncomfortably, playing with the comforter with even more interest. "She didn't slap me… or hex me…She just, y'know, informed me that 'Flynn' was her brother…"

James was very quiet, and I looked over to him, to see that he looked as though he felt pretty bad for me. As if, yes, I was thoroughly in the shithouse, and there was no real way to get out…

"She said that 'Flynn' was her brother?" James repeated my words quietly.

I nodded, gulping. "Yeah, needless to say, I felt pretty awful. Still do."

He came over to lay a hand on my shoulder, before handing me my books – which had somehow been lost in his side of the room. Probably because he borrowed Remus' and mine all the time. He never kept good track of his school stuff.

"Maybe you need to leave it be… Just let her cool off?" James suggested, as I shoved my books in my bag, which was still strapped on my shoulder.

"I suppose so..." I mumbled.

James looked a little empathetic for a moment. "I don't really think she likes you and I know how that is so maybe- "

_What._

_Oh no no no no._

I mean, she was quite… _something_ but…

_Why did he always come to this conclusion about her and I?_

I stood up quickly. "I don't fancy her, Prongs!"

He gave me a funny look before patting my arm again. "Okay, well… in that case maybe you should keep your attentions elsewhere, then? Quit thinking about how you've messed up and hurt her feelings and focus on something else?"

I rolled my eyes. "I somehow don't think I hurt her feelings. I just pissed her off."

James waved that off, as he plucked a split quill from the contents of his bag, and threw it on the floor. "Whatever – just keep yourself distracted for a bit, you know? Don't let her ignoring you, get you too focused on the fact that… she _is_ ignoring you. Focus on Quiddich or something. Or some bird."

This wasn't about focus, I wanted to tell him. But, James obviously thought he was giving advice that rivalled gold, so I couldn't bear to interrupt him, and piss off yet another person I was close with.

Though I really didn't think that whatever relation I had with Rowan, counted as 'close'...

_Ah well _- better to appease my best friend, and have him gripe about Lily rather than try and play therapist to _my_ own issues.

"Sure," I said slowly, "sounds alright to me… Thanks, James."

* * *

We left the dorms, but James' reasoning – it stuck with me. Perhaps, I couldn't forget… how much Rowan disliked me at the moment, but I could… put time and effort into other things…

That was all the more evident, when Ana Cray, from Ravenclaw smiled at me from her table during lunch.

She wasn't bad, she wasn't bad at all. She had a cute face – a bit cookie-cutter, but, the rest of her made up for it…

So I smiled back, taking James' words to heart. _Focus on other things… 'some bird' perhaps..._

Rowan, studiously ignored me throughout Charms too, though. I mean, I thought she would have been in a better mood after having eaten, but again, she sat in front of me… chatting quietly with Remus. Soft voice, barely betraying a word of their conversation to me…

"Sirius? Sirius, what's up?" a breathy voice interrupted my thoughts.

I tore my eyes away from Rowan's calm, collected profile with that lovely upturned nose, almost forgetting she had those scars... to utter a very oaf-like: "Mphh?"

Low and behold, beside me stood Ana Cray, the curvy blonde Ravenclaw I'd smiled at just an hour before. I had no idea she was in my Charms class… She was leaning towards me, her straight dark blonde hair spilling on to my desk and her light brown eyes were lined with some make up charm.

Her blouse seemed to strain against her chest – and ample cleavage caught my eye.

I was a man, wasn't I? And that… _that _was pretty hard to ignore… especially when it was quite, _literally_, in my face…

So maybe bookworms got lonely too…

I managed to look her in the face, giving her a slight smirk I reserved only for girls I knew would appreciate it. She was grinning too, no doubt noticing me noticing her.

"Could I," she smiled slightly, "borrow a piece of parchment?"

I wanted to laugh in her face.

Jeez, she was a bit of a tart, no?

Was that some sort of code?

Like, _'can I borrow a parchment and your tremendous abilities in the sack, Sirius?'_

Oh, well, couldn't hurt to interpret that way…

James' words came back to me: _lose focus on the girl who dislikes you because you're a git, gain focus on the girl who admires you because you have game, good sir! _

Well, it translated to that when you had a Ravenclaw girl practically offering herself up to you.

I gave her a sexy grin. "Why of course, Ana." I pulled a clean sheet from my bag, and handed it to her, while flicking the hair out of my eyes and letting my gaze glide over her appreciatively.

Like I said, I was a man.

Or a hormonal teenager… same difference.

"Thanks…" she smiled at me, and she was about to turn to walk back up the aisle to her desk when I called out to her.

"Oh, Ana?"

_Wait for it…_

She turned, eyes wide with expectation.

It had been a while, since I had done this, and it was quite rewarding every time.

I gave her a wry smile. "I'd like to get to know you better."

Then, there was the blush and the nod, and the hip-shaking walk back to her desk, where I saw, much to my amusement, a clean stack of parchment all of her own…

_Why would a Ravenclaw need a piece of parchment?_

_She actually thought I was that stupid…_

I snickered slightly, then swivelled to the front, and saw that, Rowan Hanely was staring at me, along with Remus. Two pairs of light eyes locked on me…

Moony, looked amused, his eyes crinkled slightly at my moves on the Cray girl…

Rowan… she had her eyebrows raised slightly, and a rather surprised look on her face. No, more like my display was just something sort of interesting, but altogether not that agreeable. Distasteful, maybe? None the less, her dark hair had settled on her shoulders in a soft manner, and her eyes were quite calculating when she perceived my fast-disappearing smirk of satisfaction.

She was, once again, entirely in my focus, and I wanted to scowl at her for ignoring me - when she really had no idea that I was feeling remorse about what I had said. Though, I simply stared at her, in my stupid, curious way.

_Damn her. I had a fit Ravenclaw in the palm of my hand. She could screw off, the moody - _

She turned around, to flick her wand at the book so it would turn to the proper page – and I was ignored once more.

_So be it.  
_  
I had another focus that could bridge the gap she was creating, and Quiddich was starting up. I had to try out for Beater once more… We also had a Hogsmeade trip coming up… and of course, the full moon wasn't that far off... That would keep my time occupied, and make it feel much less like I was on trial and guilty for my crimes, too.

I settled in my seat, eyes determinely fixed away from her _stupid, shiny chocolate-coloured hair_, that was causing me to fail Potions, and tried to chase the weary feeling that I would lose my intent much too soon.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I appreciate it! Feel free to leave any questions, or comments! Perhaps about how Sirius is sort of a manwhore, yes? Anyways, I apologize for such a late update - unfortunately I've missed alot of classes due to a student exchange, and a couple of sick days... but enjoy & have a wonderful day!**

***Just a wee footnote: I made a few changes to this chapter after a very astute reviewer corrected me where I was wrong! Which, by the way, I appreciate from reviewers. I like to know when I'm wrong, cause then I can fix it. Unless, I'm on a rogue non-canon writing rage, then I don't think it needs to be corrected, because it's fairly obvious :)**  
**  
So, It was clarified to me that James is a Chaser, and Sirius is a Beater - so I made those changes. Thank you to jessy63 for pointing that out!**


	14. Chapter 14

**The Resolution **  
**- Chapter Fourteen - **  
**  
- Rowan Hanely - **

* * *

The heat of a fast-diminishing Indian summer had broken and the first whispering breezes and crisp air that accompanied autumn had come to wash over Hogwarts. In the midst of October the leaves were changing to dull browns and the bright fields wilted without the strong sun and even rainfall. All the students began to wear heavy cardigans and scarves that sported their House colours as they walked the grounds; avoiding the Black Lake, where the chilly winds picked up, making the tall bulrushes flutter as if to shake off the frost that accumulated every night.

The library hadn't changed a bit though… There was still the heady musty smell of ancient books and the nearly unnoticeable whispers of pages turning. The quiet space had a certain coolness to it even in the summertime, so in the beginnings of a frigid Scottish fall, it had become even sharper.

Which is why everyone within the library during the spare afternoon had clumped near the high windows, where the sun filtered in, illuminating the warm colours of book spines and sending rays across the rickety tables.

Well, if I was going to be realistic, when I described '_everyone_' in the library, I meant the meagre few overachieving Ravenclaws and Remus and I.

We sat deep in the corner of a row of Herbology reference books, where Remus had a slew of parchments before him and seemed to be ignorant of the patchy stains of ink all over his dress shirt and forearms.

I, had a modest amount in comparison, so I was free to lean back on my chair – tipping my face into the sunlight as I squinted at my pale friend, my wand twirling in between my fingers in a lazy fashion.

He looked… stressed.

His hand was clutched in his dirty blonde hair, dark circles paired with a sallow face and his round blue eyes blurred over as he scribbled with a scrawny-looking quill that seemed to come from the average chicken.

To be truthful, I felt a pang of sympathy as I watched him. He was after all, a fairly kind friend to me.

I gently let my chair tip forward on to its four legs with a slight clunk. As I leaned towards him, my tangled hair fell forward to cover my shamefully white-scarred cheeks. I held my wand loosely, ceasing my play with the thing and peeking over at his monumental pile of work.

"So, is this a normal event for you?"

I was fairly sure that Remus took note of my disbelieving tone but if he did, he didn't show it. Perhaps, that was why I found his presence so welcoming, and why I spent so much time with him here. Well, I was probably the only one other than Lily who would head over to the library with him. Or talks about class subjects… outside of class.

He shrugged his narrow shoulders and made a quick note on his essay, glancing up quickly at me, before going back to his chicken scratch editing. "Yeah, pretty much," he muttered.

_No bitterness there_… I thought, struggling to not raise my eyebrows.

I continued the twirling of my wand between two digits of my right hand, while I tugged knots out of the ends of my hair with my left.

"Do you enjoy playing babysitter, then?" I asked him in a soft voice, my eyes watching the splotchy ink of my finished and edited papers before me.

I was referring to the fact that not all the work in front of Remus was his. It was actually a collection of half-hearted pieces of homework and unfinished ten-inch essays, belonging to the less studious members of the Marauders. He was correcting and editing all of it. Every scrap of parchment was being wizened by a careful scratch or two from his crappy quill.

Yet, it was a lot… and he was only one man.

I raised my eyes to see that my question seemed to have affected Remus, because the telltale signs of irritation blossomed as his mouth settled into a mild, yet exasperated smirk.

"When you have friends like James, Sirus and Peter… you are deemed the babysitter no matter your willingness. It's fact, Rowan," he sighed. "They're big kids… and I'm going to forever be making sure they're alright."

I made a small '_tsk_' of disagreement, under my breath. "Making sure they're alright doesn't mean doing their work…"

The pale boy finally put his quill down to give me his full and undivided attention. "I'm not doing their work… I'm correcting it."

"Yeah," I scoffed, "because James' work is brilliance in need of only a couple of grammatical corrections." I nodded towards the pile that seemed to belong to James, owing to the fact his block-like writing only covered a measly few inches of a very long piece of parchment.

Remus was threatening to smile, but it was quickly smothered when he shook his head. "It's just correcting it. It doesn't bother me that much."

_Fat chance.  
_  
He was obviously going towards his wits end, but he was too nice to say anything about it.

I finally cocked an eyebrow at him, feeling the tug of mostly-healed skin. "Because you're being a good friend, right?"

Again, his body tightened and his eyes flashed up to me over the papers, before going back to his frantic 'correcting'. "Yeah, I guess…" he grumbled out.

He was being used by his good nature, and against my will, I felt a twitch of irritation towards James, Sirius and Peter for being so ignorant to the fact that Remus was being weighed down by all their work, when he had his own schoolwork to worry about.

Then again – my body tensed in a weak moment of worry that an onslaught of dream-borne and past reality tremors might rear their ugly heads – Sirius wasn't exactly known for being sensitive, now was he?

Though, his disjointed little speech a few days ago did seem sincere…

Internally, I shook my head.

He was a bumbling, roguish womanizer according to Lily.

And he, apparently, felt like he needed to talk to me despite the fact I was too wary of him to want the same…

I mean, it was much easier to leave him well enough alone and hopefully have him do the same after a while. That heart-stopping slip up moment where I said Flynn _was_my brother… it was disastrous with its potent quality. At this thought my throat constricted painfully. The past tense was uncomfortable to even think about. It had so many things attached to it. It seemed mocking… but thankfully, Sirius didn't seem to have picked up on my working. It didn't seem to register to him… That I'd spoken of Flynn like he wasn't even here… which was… true.

Maybe my cold, distant attitude towards him had clouded his judgement on his perception of what I had told him. Which was very good. I didn't want him to know I was the only Hanely left.. I didn't want everyone to know that I'd been fighting for so long only to lose.

_Lose…_

_Everyone._

_Lose…_

_Everything I had ever known._

I had had an isolated understand of what my _'everything'_ was until now. I had lived in a certain fashion for my whole life. The only reality I knew was the one I'd been immersed in… Learning from my family, working with my family… living, breathing… my family. My mother and father… Willow… Flynn… They were all I knew. I barely spent any time with anyone else. A few Aurors here and there… old friends of my parents… and of course, probably the one other Dark Wizard Hunter family in all of Britain or even Europe: the O'Connors.

As Irish as their name, and the constant friends to our family. They were one of the few who truly understood us… Them, being the same as us: being Hunters, and helping their parents since they could hold a wand… training physically… magically… their sons, Leo and Killian, were my childhood friends. My only friends besides the siblings who were my constant companions.

Willow was completely enamoured with the older brother, Leo, and he with her. Killian was my age, and my absolute partner in crime. Flynn, was a little brother to all of us. He was scooped up constantly by the two boys and tickled mercilessly.

They were extensions to our family, and they connected with us, as others couldn't. Kevin and Siobhan – the boys' parents, were like an aunt and uncle, at times. If Mum griped after Dad and us, we knew we could run off to complain to the boys and Kevin, while Siobhan chastised us in a rich Irish brogue, "_we just didn't know what it was like to be a mother!_"

They were my family, for a while too. But when we began to run… from this somebody… this rising Dark Lord… who I was now sure had ordered the murder of my family… we couldn't speak with out friends the O'Connors. We wouldn't dare drag them into our mess. So, we hadn't spoken to them for a solid year.

My contact with the tentative pseudo foste family I'd had before was long severed.

So with those swirling thoughts, I watched Remus as he grudgingly filled in the blanks for his dear friends and felt a slight feeling of sympathy on top of it all.

It really was _tiring_…

Giving a shit about the living and the dead at the same time – never really sure who you should give more attention to.

Life… ought to be a bit more important. I had made a conscious choice a while ago not to wallow in my own sadness. I ought to… be involved with those who were living, not… in a relationship with the dead.

I laid my wand on the unstable writing desk in a movement of defeat, and sighed, extending my hand, palm up towards Remus. My scarlet cardigan covered most of me, but the odd colouring of my formerly scratched palms shone in the light – some sort of clue in, as to how different he and I were.

He looked up, with a slow deliberate confusion that was even more apparent in his narrowed eyes, and his quill was even poised above the page, ink dropping from it in a slow trickle.

I jerked my hand. "Give some here, then. I'll help you out."

My friend across from me seemed excited and surprised at the same time. His eyes became less narrow and wider with happiness, his shadowy face becoming filled with light as he leaned into the sun streams from the window. "Are you sure? I mean – "

I nodded quickly, and my eyes gave a roll without even meaning to. "Yeah, yeah. Hand me a pile and I'll see what I can do."

He grinned, and the happy motion lit him up even more than the sun itself. His sickly frame straightened, and he seemed to lunge for a smaller pile of papers. He slid them over to me, in a swift motion – obviously, he couldn't be happier to have been ridden of them.

I let my fingers snatch the pages, feeling their roughness and slight weight of words on them. They were pulled in front of me, and I leaned back in my chair once more, looking them over in a quick shuffle.

The scrawl was cramped and spiky… meticulous in the beginning of each essay… but becoming more and more erratic towards the end, as if the writer began to care less and less.

Curiously, I laid the sheets out on the sun-warmed table, looking for whom the work might belong to… until I saw a spiky signature.

**'Sirius Black'**

I scowled slightly at the sub title to his name, which seemed to be even more detailed than the very work beneath it.

**'Otherwise known as 'the Eighth Wonder of the World' and partial to such epithets as 'handsome', 'rugged' or 'angelic'.'  
**  
How… _classy. _

My scowl turned into a reluctant smirk, and I ran my finger over my ridged lip so I could stifle a snort of laughter.

_He really was something else.  
_  
He had such a big head – it was a wonder he defied the laws of physical exertion and managed to haul it around along with his ego.

I smirked more deeply at that and finally reached over to dip my quill in Remus' pot of sharply red ink. It was a wicked colour and I just couldn't wait to paint Sirius' essays with it.

I harrumphed, and tucked my feet under my old wooden chair, making little scratches here and there… writing comments or correcting his grammar in the obscene red colour.

Truthfully, he was smart… he just didn't find use for commas or foot notes… or… well, he was inventive… it just ran on and on… Everything… from citing forgotten laws of Transfiguration to describing the wonderful benefits of shoe polish when it came to patching up the scruffy edges of your black cloak.

How that related to Herbology, I had no idea.

I stretched slightly, raising my focus from Sirius' mass of half-assed work, and saw that Remus seemed to have de-clenched slightly with less of a bundle of sheets to correct. His body was less hunched with stress and his mouth was not pulled down in the touch of despair and exasperation that had clouded his narrow face earlier.

Good for him. He hardly deserved to be stuck in here sweating out the better part of his sanity while the other Marauders were out doing Merlin knows what.

Immediately, almost without thought, my head swivelled to the window, shielding my eyes with a ink-splotched hand, as I looked for three rumpled Gryffindors who were presumably out on the grounds while Remus was here toiling away.

The sunlight warming my cheeks, I looked in vain for the familiar faces…

The grounds were almost endless though, and as I watched the tall grasses and flicker of reflection against the stained glass from the lake – I recognized no one.

I guess it was verging on stupid of me to say that I didn't recognize anyone. Fact was, I didn't really know anyone besides my dorm mates, the Marauders, Severus the Slytherin boy, a meagre few from the Gryffindor house and of course the students from other houses that happened to be in my classes.

The grounds were immense though. On my runs during the summer and my explorations, I hadn't covered them in their entirety. I intended to… at some point… owing to the fact that Dumbledore had encouraged me to run around wildly, very literally running from my nightmares.

But still… I thought as I kept my gaze fixed on the rolling hills and dying Scotland landscape, …if the grounds of Hogwarts were immense, then the Forbidden Forest was endless – as endless as a rolling ocean, with all the dangers of strong waves crashing on rocky shorelines, except in the forms of creatures and plants that were cautioned against us magical children since we'd been old enough to know that not every fluffy living thing was to be petted and fed Ginger Newts.

I felt my mouth quirk slightly, as I twisted in my chair to watch the closest edge of the Forest, where the autumn winds made the plants sway in such a fashion that it seemed as though they wanted to creep towards the castle… It's not like this terrified me. I still continued to be fascinated with things that tried to bite me… Take the Mustelids, for example…

My mouth threatened to smile even more.

This, this was probably the exact reason Hagrid and I got along so well… I was smirking thinking about Mustelids.

But, as I watched the Forest through the high window of the library, my smirk… started to vanish.

There was a crowd… well not really a crowd, but an odd gathering of students near the edge of the trees that I'd absent-mindedly surveyed. They were all wearing the dark school cloaks that marked them as students… and they stood almost perilously close to the wood's edge, but still, they carried themselves with an almost careless fashion. As if nothing could touch them.

I wrapped my fingers around the backing of my chair, watching them as they seemed to herd around something, and I was sure, by the bobbing of their heads, that they were laughing at something.

But… there was something, a bit off. I could feel it in the fibres of me – in that little sense I'd cultivated over the years. Perhaps it was intuition, or – my back tensed slightly – it was the way these boys seemed to create a formation around this something. A loose circle, that reminded me in a sickening way of the night where I'd been circled by tall men in dark cloaks, and I wondered if these boys had their hoods raised over their mocking heads, would the uncanny similarities make my blood run cold? Even in broad daylight? A very far cry from the stifling hot night that I could remember with clarity that threatened nightmares even in daydreams?

I leaned forward, totally engrossed now, forgetting that I that Remus even sat across from me, or that a pile of Sirius' now utterly correction-ravaged work sat before me. The group of boys, moved as one entity in a sheep-like fashion towards what looked like to be an entrance into the darkness that was the Forbidden Forest – a sort of trail that had grown in, and the limbs of some ancient tree hung low over the bushes that parted there, as if warding off entry.

My mouth was a firm line now, as I saw the bunch of them come to a stop, but they were still surrounding something. Here, where they had paused in the clear sunlight, but so close to the shadows, I could see that their scarves were a deep green and silver and they were hung around their neck in a similar fashion – all tied rather expertly, to fit in with each other it seemed.

_Slytherins…_

Now, this was the sort of thing that gave them their sneaky nature wasn't it?

And me, watching them, was a credit to Gryffindor's supposedly nosy nature…

But, this wasn't nosy. It couldn't be – because I felt something was going wrong here, and despite it possibly being none of my business, it was suddenly becoming more and more distressing to watch.

I gripped my chair even more fervently when I saw that the boys were laughing once more, and they had picked up a smaller dark form off the ground. The smaller form… they had surrounded. The smaller form, which seemed to be… a young boy… A young boy, who they now grabbed by the collar and shoved around, until he appeared disoriented. It was all too obvious by the way he was unsteady on his feet, that he was terribly afraid. He seemed to look up frantically at the older boys who surrounded him – and I couldn't make out his features but I was sure they would be almost pleading. His blue scarf was barely held around his neck because of all the rough prodding he was receiving. The dark haired young boy tried to push through the crowd of Slytherins around him, but to no avail – he was smaller and they bunched around him again, almost as though they were intent to drown him in their laughing and their pushing.

I felt my nails dig into the grains of wood on the backing of my chair, and I was sure Remus was saying something or another, but this - this had my full attention, and it was making each muscle in me tense, with an almost acute pain of inaction.

The Slytherin boys now grabbed their target by the back of his cloak, and practically launched him toward that overgrown entry to the Forest.

My stomach dropped.

_How stupid could they be?_

Did they not know what was in there?

I might make fun of those '_fluffy munchkins_' in the Forest, as Hagrid called them, but I was not about to push someone in there – especially not someone as small and seemingly helpless as that unidentified boy.

Again, I watched, frozen in my chair as the young boy shied away from the enveloping darkness the shadows of the ancient, swaying trees sent skittering across the grass, and he turned to the mob of Slytherins, his hands held up in defence, as they advanced on him, and I could practically hear their jeering and coercing, as he was backed into a metaphorical corner.

_Face the Slytherins, or head into the Forest.  
_  
Some tic in my jaw began to spasm as it tightened, and I felt a sudden rush of anger and energy.

There was no way in hell I was just going to keep watching this.

I felt useless enough – being alive while I watched them all – I wasn't a Dark Wizard Hunter anymore but – That boy, he might be hurt right now while I thought this. My mind was running in desperate circles, so much so that I felt an almost horrible nausea.

_I had to -  
_  
"I have to go," I spit out suddenly, as I turned to Remus with a quick movement, which sent my hair flying around my face. I brushed it away impatiently, while I tossed the papers around before me, scrabbling for my wand.

He was staring at me with what appeared to be serious concern, or the look, which was proof that a seed of doubt about my sanity was being firmly planted in the fields of his mind. His brow was furrowed, his hands were free of papers or quills, and they were outstretched towards me.

"… Is everything alright, Rowan?" His voice was cautious.

I was getting slightly frustrated, but I tried not to let it show on my blank face, despite the fact I was now slapping at random piles of parchment to see if I could feel that familiar cylindrical shape beneath them. "Yes! Yes!" I said, "I just need to head outside for some fresh air, and perhaps it would be good if you did the same once you're finished with Peter's stuff."

He leaned back, still watching me in an undisguised worry, as he saw my mask slipping as I gritted my teeth with the mounting pressure of time. "What are you looking for?" he asked simply.

My voice was very smooth, despite it all. "My wand."

He raised his eyebrows slightly and he inclined his head to the right of me. "It's right there, beside the ink well."

Sure enough, when I turned to look, my whirlpool-ish coloured wand lay by the ink well, and I snatched it up quickly, before shoving the corrected papers in Remus' direction.

In a quicker move than I had accomplished in a long while, I had nodded thanks to my bewildered friend, peeked out the window to see the mob closing ranks again, then took off at a brisk pace that I knew Madam Pince, the librarian, couldn't yell at me for.

"I'll see you outside later, then?" I heard from behind me, a loud sort of yell that broke the quietude of the library.

I half turned to see Remus frowning at me from our rickety table, before Madam Pince swooped down at him like a hawk, with that harsh, matronly 'shhh!' of hers, that had him hastily apologizing.

Needless to say as soon as the entrance to the library was behind me, I ran.

* * *

**That's that! I'm such a jerk, updating so late then leaving you with a cliffie. Sorry for my awfully late update in any case, but I am wretched away from my writing more than I'd like to be. Also, I'd like to thank my anonymous reviewers for such kind words... I can't respond to tell you how thankful I am privately, so consider this a general thank you to all of you who were kind enough to leave me a few comments. Oh, and of course, thank you to all you reviewers in general! Can't forget you guys, you're the very essence of fanfiction! Well then, feel free to leave a review, and as always, thank you for reading!**


End file.
